


glad to say

by lavender coin (idyII)



Series: we create our own luck [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Bisexual Qrow Branwen, Feelings Realization, Flirting, Gen, M/M, Other, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:48:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22096645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idyII/pseuds/lavender%20coin
Summary: Clover Ebi was an asshole. An asshole because he kept growing more emboldened and flirtatious the longer they spent together. It was stupid, but Qrow couldn't help but egg it on by instinct.(runs alongside What Father Means)
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: we create our own luck [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590316
Comments: 113
Kudos: 512





	1. reward

At some point Qrow noticed that he wasn’t taking any missions.

That is, by himself.

They were always with Clover. Or Clover and his team, but Qrow really only worked with Clover. It had been weird at first, meeting someone who just seemed to stroll up with a Semblance that was the exact opposite (the good version) of his own, but then it became a sort of…comfort. After seeing Clover work, a part of Qrow really wanted to believe that maybe (just maybe) the mythical person who wouldn’t be affected by his Semblance really did exist.

He had to keep reminding himself over and over that that was a _lie_. Sooner or later, everyone near him got hurt somehow.

_“We’re perfect for each other.”_

He grit his teeth as he trudged through the cold snow. He’d always done things on his own, hadn’t he? He didn’t see why that should change now. Why be cooped up in Atlas when he could be doing something useful?

Wandering around in the cold patrolling sure didn’t feel useful right now.

That is, until he spotted a Nuckelavee.

* * *

Nuckelavee sure were a pain. Sure, it couldn’t move closer and attack at the same time, but if Qrow wanted to get closer to _it_ , it meant dealing with those creepy gangly arms attached to claws long enough to pierce all the way through his head. He felt a little bit off, fighting alone for the first time in a while, but it also felt a bit good- like he was back into a familiar groove.

It also liked to swing its arms around and around and around like a dick to try and knock him off his feet, so he decided to take the fast approach, because he had some energy he wanted to run off, and launched himself off a nearby boulder with a gunshot, barreling towards it fast enough he was catapulted over its arms, however briefly. Then he swung _his_ scythe in a madman twirl around his body to give it some of its own medicine, severing both its arms before he’d reached its body.

It was screaming when he got in close and sliced through where its ribcage would theoretically be, which made him wince, so he went for the head next. Then it was blessed silence after he’d cut it off and apart with five strikes in quick succession.

God, he hated those things.

“That was some impressive work, there.”

Qrow’s entire organ system bout damn near jumped out of his chest. Whirling around, he cocked Harbinger into its retracted form that propped the shotgun barrels up front and center. He was startled to find Clover standing mere yards away from him, having must just come down from the outcropping of rocks Qrow himself had jumped down.

He looked relaxed, with folded arms, but raised them in surrender when Qrow pointed his weapon at him. “Sorry,” he said with that smile of his, that terrible smile of his, “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“Wha- the fuck are you doing here?” Qrow asked dumbly, internally cringing at his own eloquence. He was frustrated, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to escape Clover no matter where he went, but somehow, felt bad for snapping at him too.

“You went off on your own,” Clover told him, as if that was an explanation, as Qrow retracted Harbinger fully.

Qrow’s mouth twisted in an unhappy line as he stored his weapon away, one hand curling into a fist out of habit. “Yeah? So?”

Clover’s eyes lingered on his hand. Then he looked back up at him, which frustrated him more, because Qrow seemed too goddamned easy to read. To Clover more than anyone else. “You haven’t taken a mission by yourself. It seemed a little out of character.”

Qrow’s stomach flipped unhappily. He crossed his arms, partially due to just how cold it was out. “I always took missions by myself before traveling to Atlas.”

“I’m aware.” Clover smiled in a vaguely teasing way, sauntering a bit closer to him. At least he’d put on a damn coat this time. Qrow had a running bet going with himself at what point the man would decide a tank top wasn’t enough to stave off the cold.

It has horseshoe designs on the sleeves. Of course.

“But that doesn’t mean you need to now. It’s dangerous to go out alone.”

Qrow twitched. He could take care of himself. He didn’t need… Brothers, why was he so frustrated? Clover was- his friend.

_Stop worrying about me._

“That being said, I am happy I got to see you _actually_ in action,” Clover said with a tilt of his head, looking at where a few wisps of darkness were simmering in the air where the Grimm had been. The odd smile on his face made Qrow frown.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you don’t exactly use Harbinger in that form very often. It was, dare I say-“ Here, Clover paused to set his chin into the crook of his knuckles, grinning. “Very graceful.”

Qrow’s ears burned. There was a heat rushing up his back that was going to make his neck red too. He knew what that feeling was, and he knew it was stupid to entertain it.

“It’s a shame I don’t get to see it more often.”

“Well, it’s just as useful in its other forms,” Qrow muttered, running a hand through his hair as he looked off to the distance where Atlas floated in the sky. Clover’s eyes followed his hand.

“There you go again. Can’t you just take the compliment? You certainly deserve it.” Clover was grinning like he’d won something, which made Qrow feel a bit offended.

“Hey, pretty boy, you’ve never even transformed Kingfisher into _anything_ , so you have no room to t-”

It was then something under the foot he’d put most of his weight onto cracked, like the broken mirrors that littered Qrow’s life. He flailed as he slipped, but had no momentum to stop himself.

And _of course_ , he didn’t have to. What his hand landed on was Clover’s shoulder, not thin air, as the man rushed forward to catch him with an arm around his torso. His face had shown a quick flicker of surprise, but it was replaced by that mind-boggling composed smile.

“That would’ve been a cold fall, huh?”

Qrow took a quick glance behind and found a giant crack in what turned out to be ice. Sure, he probably would’ve been able to drag himself out, but he probably would have frozen a few toes off by the time he got back to Atlas.

“More like freezing,” Qrow muttered, trying to lean himself up, and Clover helped him, not letting him just hang there, but his arm on Qrow’s back felt so warm. As if it was a distant sound, Qrow heard the rattle of Kingfisher retracting, but he couldn’t see where it was with how close _he_ was. “I- thanks.”

_Don’t be a total asshole. Could’ve drowned._

Clover’s hand moved- _don’t be disappointed don’t be disappointed_ \- dragging itself up his back and clapping him on the shoulder with a smile. Qrow shivered, telling himself it was the cold (even though it was) and not his traitorous brain starving for any contact. “What was that just now? You think I’m pretty, hmm?”

“Ugh.” Qrow covered his face with one hand and closed his eyes, not willing to look the other man in the face. With the amount of heat in his own, it was any wonder the cold still bothered him. “Let’s just go back to Atlas now. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I dunno, you seemed like you missed me.”

“Did not. I’ll finally beat you at poker if you’ve got cards if it’ll shut you up.”

Despite the words being biting, Qrow couldn’t stop his voice from being friendly.

* * *

Whatever show the other operatives were watching was set entirely too loudly on the television in their common room attached to the kitchen, and it occasionally made one of Qrow’s ears twitch. Only Harriet and Marrow were there, Marrow sprawled over the couch while Harriet leaned back against the bar Clover and Qrow were playing cards at; she was mostly ignoring them, but not in a rude way. Qrow had been making an effort to remember their names (although the only reason he remembered Harriet’s first was that Ruby was always fangirling over her).

“Are you two ever gonna finish that game of yours?” she asked, sounding like she was making fun of them, without looking away from the television.

“Soon as I finally win a round against your captain,” Qrow told her, staring at his cards as if they had personally betrayed him.

She laughed out a huff. “That ain’t gonna happen anytime soon.”

“You never know. Maybe my bad luck will finally rub off on him.”

The smile Clover put on looked secretive. “I don’t know about that,” he said, equally as teasing as his teammate yet in a different way. “You’ve brought me nothing but good luck so far, Qrow.”

Qrow immediately diverted his eyes back to his cards, feeling heat rushing up his neck. He didn’t know how to respond to that.

Harriet snorted. Qrow almost would’ve thought she was responding to their banter, but her eyes were still glued to the TV screen. “Marrow, this documentary is so boring. That lion keeps stalking his prey but won’t make a move.”

Clover’s eyes flickered up from his cards. They landed on Harriet, and, for a moment, looked a tad sharp, but she wasn’t grinning at him.

_Oh,_ Qrow thought, his inner curiosity rising. _That’s interesting._

“Give him a break,” he suggested amusedly. “Maybe he’s tired. Not every hunter is cut out for the hunt.”

He had absolutely no idea what had touched even a mild trigger of something in Clover, but he wanted to prod at it anyway.

Harriet actually turned around that time, smirking at him. “Think he can’t handle it?”

Qrow matched her smirk with one of his own, brushing his hand through his hair out of habit. “The prey may be too much to handle.”

The grin on her face was downright predatory. “Guess he’s just run plum out of luck then.”

They definitely weren’t talking about the nature documentary anymore.

Then she turned away, shoulders shaking as if pushing down a cackle, and Qrow glanced at Clover. The other Huntsman’s eyes had widened a fraction, and his cheeks were actually mildly red, making a thrill run through him. Now that was more entertaining than a card game.

Qrow shrugged. “Something the matter, shamrock? It’s your move.”

“-Not at all,” Clover replied, sounding as if he quickly aborted something he was about to say right before he said it. He glanced at his cards, then set them on the table, smiling in a reserved way. “I have to fold. I don’t have anything.”

Qrow’s eyes lit up. Another thrill went through him, a slightly vindictive one, and his smile was unsettling as he flipped his hand around. He’d known he was going to win, but knowing their ‘luck’ had been _completely_ switched around was hilarious. “Well, look at that. Five of a kind. Guess I win for once, huh?”

Clover’s gaze lingered on his hand. “Sure you didn’t slip some cards in?” he asked, but it was fully in jest. His expression actually looked vaguely happy for him. Vaguely, because there was only so much enjoyment they could both derive from their twenty-eighth game in the span of four hours at eleven o’clock at night.

Grinning, Qrow got up, depositing his cards on the table in front of Clover with a sweeping motion, lingering on purpose. Clover’s eyes drifted along his arm, then landed on the Joker his thumb was on.

“That’s a shame. I would’ve upped the ante if I’d known I’d win,” he said, eyes glittering; he couldn’t help it. Sometimes part of him wanted to pull back from Clover (because he ruined, literally, everything) but Clover yet was the one person he wanted to poke at most in the world. He clapped him on the shoulder and winked. “I guess we don’t always get lucky, do we?”

He heard Harriet let her cackle loose as he sauntered away towards the hall, laughing at his words. Their running joke about their Semblances made them just vague enough there was plausible deniability it was a double entendre.

He didn’t even bother with his usual slouch as he walked. Being around Clover made him feel lighter, less dim inside, and maybe that was why he kept on doing this and spurring on the…whatever they had.

If Clover’s gaze burning into his back as he left was any indication, it was only a matter of time before Qrow had to face it head-on.

* * *

Harriet was still snickering as she took in their leader sitting slouched against the bar, one hand’s fingers supporting his forehead as he stared off into space with a reddening complexion. He didn’t look completely embarrassed, which was a compliment to his composure, but she could tell easily enough when he was and wasn’t thrown off.

When she’d finished laughing to herself, she managed a sympathetic smirk, flipping her water bottle in hand for amusement as Marrow tried to muffle his wheezes in the couch cushions. “You _really_ want to metaphorically pounce on the gazelle, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Clover told her a little desperately, with the look of a lost starving man.

“Just be sure it doesn’t eat you,” she couldn’t resist throwing in, laughing again as she activated her Semblance to speed down the hall to her room. A bit unprofessional, but who was ever going to tell Winter? Not Clover, in that state.


	2. bet

"You know," Clover mentioned, in a completely offhand way, "I think you could control that Semblance of yours a little better if you didn't hate it so much."

Qrow, who'd been shuffling their cards, froze. They'd taken to a different game, because he simply refused to play another game of poker. This one was just based on who had the higher number of card after pulling from the stack, which heightened the irony, since it was based on pure luck now and no skill was involved. "What?" he asked, feeling as though his tongue was a little numb.

Clover, who sat across from him in a transport truck as it rumbled across the tundra to where they needed to take out a nest of Grimm, raised an eyebrow at him. "Does it extend to your hearing?"

Qrow twitched. "I can hear fine," he said, slapping the card deck down. "I just don't see what you mean."

"I mean, if you stopped hating it so much, you may have a better chance at learning to control it."

Qrow sighed. It wasn't a long, drawn-out sigh, but it was one devoid of any sort of hope nonetheless. "Believe me, shamrock, I've tried it. It doesn't work like that."

"Oh really?" Clover still had an eyebrow raised, or maybe he'd just raised it again. Qrow had been staring at the floor. "When did you first start trying?"

"I think you have to win a round to ask a question."

Smiling, Clover reached forward and grabbed a card. Qrow did the same after him, and they flipped them around at the same time. Qrow groaned.

"Well?" Clover asked, waving his ten of spades at him. Qrow held a three of hearts.

Sighing again, Qrow raked a hand through his hair. "When I was a kid, I guess? But it never worked, and, in fact, seemed to get worse whenever I tried, so I stopped."

Clover hummed. "The fact that it seems to get worse implies it should be able to be alleviated."

"Draw a card, mister philosophical."

They did again. Clover won again. The truck rumbled, though it didn't dislodge the deck.

"How did people treat you because of your Semblance before that?"

A little bothered by the sudden interest, Qrow gave him a wary glance. The man just looked calm, though, and his face offered no explanation. "Not...great," he admitted. Something in his head told him he shouldn't be talking about it, but something bigger kind of... _wanted_ to just have it out there for once. To have someone to talk to about it. There were things he'd never admitted to anyone, but Clover seemed to unlock something in his tongue. That was probably a bad thing. "Sure you already know I lived in a bandit tribe. People avoided me. Sometimes they smacked me with a broom if I came too close to their tent. It wasn't exactly great, why?"

Clover's head tilted to the side. His eyes finally shifted a little, from their seeming unblinking stare, and he looked mildly contemplative. "Well, it seems to me people set you up for failure before you started. You can't truly become one with your Semblance if you don't accept it, but how can a child accept it if they're taught it's bad?"

Qrow's stomach seized up. They were going down a bad train of conversation. He never liked conversations where people told him things weren't his fault and such. "Card," he said pointedly, drawing his own and feeling a rush of relief when he saw it was a twelve.

Clover pulled his and smiled, showing it to be an eight. Smirking, Qrow turned his around, glad he could steer the conversation away from the topic of his shitty luck. "All right, since you're so inquisitive. Where do _you_ come from?"

"Born and raised in Atlas," Clover replied in a pseudo-cheerful tone. It sounded like something more memorized than genuine. Some of his smiles came off like that too. "My parents were both Hunters. They trained me to do the same, I entered the Academy, I was chosen for an early version of the Ace-Ops...now we're here. They were pretty excited."

Qrow raised an eyebrow. Clover hadn't sounded the least bit upset, but Qrow's curiosity was always on high alert when it came to him. "Were you?"

"Was I what?"

"Excited? Was that what you wanted?" For a moment, surprise flashed across Clover's face, as the regulated smile slipped. He hesitated, and that made Qrow want to push all the more. Clover seemed to know a lot about him, but things about Clover? Those were mysteries, and Qrow wanted to know. To even the scales, of course. "Doesn't sound like anybody asked you."

Something about that phrase specifically made something in Clover's neck go briefly tense and then relax. Qrow watched it like a hawk. "Well," he began, "I'm not quite sure, to be honest. I just wanted what they wanted. It seemed destined."

"Says every happy golden child who somehow remains happy ever," Qrow noted dryly, drawing another card. Clover did as well, and Qrow won again. Good. "You make yourself sound like a robot that just did what they asked."

"A robot I most certainly am not," Clover retorted with some amount of fire, making eye contact with him in a snap. "There are things I want."

He left off there, in the most awkward spot, as they stared at each other. It felt very pointed, but Qrow wouldn't- couldn't- let himself assume.

"There has just been...never anything I wanted so badly, to abandon the things I deemed important," Clover went on, a little bit slower, like he was choosing his words carefully. He eyed Qrow's winning card with some trepidation, fingers tapping rhythmically on the floor of the truck. "Responsibility. Duty. Commitments. I've lived my life a certain way, I don't regret it."

"I wasn't calling your life _shitty_ ," Qrow muttered, a little chastised. "Just not what I'd pick."

Clover looked at him and lost the small bit of tension that had grown. "I know that, Qrow. You're a kind person, you wouldn't say something as rude straight out." His smile seemed to widen when Qrow went red and looked away, flipping his card up and down like he hadn't heard. "What's your next question?"

 _Is there something you want, if you had to pick?_ Sat so readily on Qrow's tongue, in a familiar sultry tone he'd usually only use in a dark bar, but he clamped down on it. "Well, since you seemed so fixated on the idea I could control my Semblance. Can you control yours?"

"To some extent. It's not like an off and on switch, but I can bolster it or transfer it to something nearby briefly enough to give it some good luck. Ever seen me tap something and it looked like it was gold for a second?" At Qrow's nod, he continued. "Again, it's not foolproof, but it works well enough."

"Hmm," Qrow muttered, staring at the cards again. It seemed to him that kind of Semblance was still different from his. It was _good_ luck, so why wouldn't Clover have good luck controlling it?

Before he could draw another card, Clover's hand wrapped around his wrist. Qrow paused.

"I really..." Clover's thumb brushed over his pulse point, softly. "Really do believe you could get better with practice, if you'd just give yourself a chance. I could help you."

 _Oh god do not look up at him,_ Qrow told himself, hoping the operative couldn't feel his pulse start to pick up. _Do NOT look up at him._ He looked up. _You fucking idiot._

There was a gentle look in Clover's eyes. Qrow couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at him in that type of way. It had to have been Summer, or maybe Taiyang. _Fuck_.

"How?" tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Clover smiled. He did a lot of that, but this one was genuine. That was what scared Qrow about Clover. It felt like they'd just met, but Qrow was already so comfortable with him, felt so attracted to him; it felt so fast. By all rights he probably should've been pissed off by Clover's very presence, with his constant luck puns, good luck foil to his own bad luck, stupid green eyes, and the fucking clover pin Qrow still had, yet...Clover felt like his first real friend in a long time.

"Let's practice together. Tomorrow at nine hundred hours."

The truck abruptly rumbled to a stop. Qrow jerked, and Clover's hand was gone (a disappointment), and he was already mumbling out a "Uh...sure," as Clover got up.

"Great. Time to get on this mission, then. In fact, if we try hard enough, we may get back early and have time for another game of cards," Clover told him with a grin, winking as he swung himself out of the truck. He practiced hardly any care for where he landed or if there might be ice under his feet.

Qrow rolled his eyes.

Show-off.

* * *

Practicing turned out to be a rather frustrating endeavor.

It was pretty much just sparring, which was rather fun, but all of Clover's advice seemed to bounce in one ear and out the other. It wasn't that Qrow wasn't listening, it just wasn't working. Try and focus, Qrow. Focus on the sense inside you. Narrow it down and focus it outward instead of letting it bounce around.

Qrow just didn't know how to _do_ any of that.

He ended up sitting on one of the benches in the training room they were in, Harbinger leaned up against the wall a little ways off, rubbing his forehead as he groaned. He was starting to get tired, which wasn't helping his irritation.

"Look, Clove, I appreciate the thought, but I really don't think this is gonna work," he said, not even aware he had started using nicknames for the other man.

He heard Clover's footsteps approaching him. Then, the sound of Clover setting his metal water bottle on the bench. "I know it can be frustrating, at first, but persistence will pay off."

"Easy for you to say," he mumbled, more out of habit, than anything else, because everyone always said things like that.

He heard Clover sigh. "That really isn't the case."

Something about his tone threw Qrow off. He frowned at the floor, feeling the weight of Clover sitting down beside him. "People usually think I don't have to work for anything because I have a good fortune Semblance. People in the Academy thought I got good grades and evaluations because I was lucky. People thought I got into the Ace Operatives because of luck. Even my own family expected me to do well at things because of it. Hardly anyone recognized the hours I put in to get where I was."

Startled, Qrow lifted his head and looked at Clover's solemn face. He was staring at the far wall, where a window was, where he could see the rest of Atlas Academy stretching out into the distance. Guilt balled itself up in his gut. He really hadn't meant to say Clover hadn't earned what he'd gotten, but he seemed to have good luck when it came to putting his foot into his mouth, at least.

"That's not-" he muttered, grimacing. "I didn't mean- I didn't mean you don't work hard. That's just what people have always said to me. To work harder. Try harder. As if it would just happen magically. Yet somehow they'd always turn around and expect me to screw up when they thought I wasn't looking."

A small, nostalgic smile appeared on Clover's face. "It's like we've had opposite problems, huh? Though I'd still say you had the shorter end of the stick, from how it sounds. No one ever smacked me with a broom for being lucky."

Qrow snorted. He looked away again, brushed his bangs back, then gave up when they flopped back down. "Yeah, people did worse things than smack me with a broom," he continued in a mumble, aware of the frown it made appear on Clover's face. "People have _hated_ me for being what I am. Avoided me, left me, refused to work with me. It's not just my Semblance, it's just _me_. I'm just rotten luck on my own."

He couldn't stand the sympathy that appeared in Clover's voice. "Qrow-"

"So that's why I mean it when I say I don't think this shit will work," Qrow continued, unintentionally snapping. "I've tried, I've begged, even _prayed_ before for this stupid curse to disappear, but it doesn't, and I think it's just me. I ruin everything I touch. I fucking-" He couldn't help it, now that he'd gotten started, thinking of when he'd been slumped over the bar in that tiny village they'd gone through and Ruby had almost died in a cellar right underneath him. A bitter laugh escaped him. "Ruin everything I _touch_ , god-"

"Qrow."

It wasn't a shout, like some small part of him had been expecting. It was soft and quiet, and startled him. He looked up at Clover, who'd knelt in front of him, and who was reaching out to take his hands. The expression on his face was unbearable. He looked like Qrow had kicked his puppy, in plain terms. Like Qrow hating himself was somehow hurting _him_ , which was another reason this all scared Qrow.

"Calm down, all right? You're not a curse, or bad luck. You do, however, seem determined to see only the bad things that have happened around you. Don't you see the team of young Huntsmen and Huntresses you brought here, how far along you've brought them? The fact that they're here, safe, is because of you."

"In _spite_ of me," Qrow argued, one lip lifting in not quite a snarl. Clover frowned at him. "We ran into an assassin, that crazy with Salem, trying to go after Ruby. All she did was get near me and she nearly got brained by part of a building. That's how I even got hurt on the way here, saving her from myself. We got thrown from a train, and had to through a village overtaken with Apathy, and all I did...all I did that entire time was lose myself in a bottle in the bar, while the kids nearly died. How is that taking care of them?"

"Qrow, I'm not saying that was right, but I read the report on the Apathy. The only person who seemed able to resist them much at all seemed to be your niece, and I daresay that's because she seems a little special," Clover told him in a tone affected by a smile. "And what you just said still only makes sense. You were in a life or death battle- _of course_ your Semblance was active. If you want to support those kids, you have to stop blaming yourself. I know there must be things that have happened that are hard to let go of. I know it can't be easy. But you have to realize that not everything is your fault."

Qrow closed his eyes. It felt like he had a hangover, mostly because of the pulsing behind his skull. He didn't want to think about it, but Clover was too stubborn to let it go.

But, by gods, something deep down _wanted_ to let things go. He just wanted to be happy for once.

"I want to," he muttered. "I just don't know how to make myself believe it."

"You don't have to do it all at once," Clover told him. "I'll be here to help every step of the way."

Then he pulled Qrow in and wrapped his arms around him, making Qrow's eyes snap wide open. His face flushed with heat, too startled to do anything, but his brain was overwhelmed with the heat radiating from Clover's body and how comforting it felt. It was like one of Taiyang's hugs, but...different. Quite different.

Slowly, he let himself sink down until his nose was pressed into Clover's shoulder. It was like all the tension he'd built up that morning was slowly retreating from his body.

It was...nice.

 _He feels nice_ _,_ his brain supplied, making him close his eyes again. Warm, firm, soft in the right places. He could almost go to sleep like this.

The door went slamming open with a bang. Qrow jumped like a bird bursting from a tree, somehow gaining at least five feet between him and the bench with some sort of wild flail and a gasping wheeze of breath, while Clover landed with one hand on the bench and one hanging awkwardly in the air he used to rub the back of his head as he still knelt there. They both stared at who'd come in- Harriet and Elm- clearly ready to do some training.

Harriet raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "What're you doing?"

Clover smiled, embarrassed, opening his mouth to respond, but Qrow beat him to the punch.

"Training," Qrow exclaimed, then coughed into his fist. "Yep, just..training. But I think Ruby wanted to...do something, so I'll be going now. And..yeah. Training."

Harbinger was a comforting shield in his hands as he made quick ground out of the room like a bat out of hell. It was a good enough excuse, because Ruby always wanted to do _something_. Something that would take his mind off his friend's (best friend's???) warm body. 


	3. call

It was just a routine mission.

They were out in the tundra, taking care of some Grimm who'd gathered in too large of a group, with Harriet assisting. Qrow liked the woman and her sarcasm, but lately felt like she was making fun of him more somehow. Just as long as she didn't insult him outright, he didn't care, but it was a little baffling.

But it was the fact that she was in front of him, not off behind him with Clover, that made him concerned when he saw a dark shape dart in the corner of his eye faster than the other Grimm. He turned, and the part that made him worried was when he saw three dark spikes shooting towards his friend.

It only took a millisecond, and later, thinking back on it, everything was a blur. Before he knew what happened, one of those spikes had pierced the usually-untouchable Ace Operative in the stomach, in a dangerous spot. Qrow didn't think, hardly even saw anything else, and he vaguely heard himself call Clover's name as he started running.

The ice underneath the porcupine-like Grimm cracked when he came near it, leaving the lower half of its body to sink into water through ice that should have been thick enough to hold it. He sliced through its head on his way to catch Clover in the snow, cold seeping into his bones.

"Harriet," he called, half carrying, half dragging Clover back towards their transport while he could hear the woman swearing.

And that was how he ended up here, shirt stained with Clover's blood, head in his heads while he sat outside the surgery wing.

This was why he didn't like having friends.

* * *

The room was quiet when Clover woke up. He expected that- it usually always was- and he took a moment to press his eyes back shut, take a deep breath, and sigh. It had been a while since he'd been injured, but it wasn't that unfamiliar to him. No man could be perfect, after all.

Then he looked to the side, and startled with surprise when he saw Qrow practically falling asleep in the chair beside his bed. The movement jolted the man to full wakefulness, and he sat up with a jerk, like someone had stung him. "You're awake!"

"I do appear to be," Clover replied with a teasing smile. "How long have I been out?"

Looking tired, Qrow turned and squinted at the clock on the wall. "Egh...about half a day. We got back around noon."

Clover looked at the clock. It read nine. "That long? What're you doing here?" he asked, genuinely confused. He figured Qrow would have gone to rest by now.

Qrow glowered at him like he'd asked something stupid. Clover internally winced, wondering if he had. "What the fuck do you mean? You could have died!" He got up and folded his arms, turning away from him to look out the window, and Clover winced for real. That was a definite _you made me mad_ pose.

"Well...people don't usually hang around whenever I get the occasional injury."

Qrow turned to look over his shoulder and glowered at him. "Getting stabbed in the gut isn't the _occasional_ injury. And _why not_?"

"People know that I'll be all right," Clover replied, placing a hand over his stomach where he could feel a dull pain. "Or, well, that I have-"

"What, _good luck_? Good enough they don't even need to visit?"

Clover was quiet for a moment. He couldn't even remember the last time someone had come to sit in his hospital room, worried about his recovery. His teammates in the Academy hadn't bothered, figuring he was too lucky to die, and his parents had been busy back in the day. It wasn't that they didn't worry at _all_ , they just knew he would pull through. Honestly, it was touching that Qrow had apparently sat there until he woke up. People didn't just do that for him, typically.

"Qrow, I'm fine. Something like this isn't enough to take me out."

"But it _could_ have," Qrow stressed, clearly still incensed.

"But it didn't," Clover countered, with a little bit of positivity, trying to calm the other man down. "Really, it's not-"

"You aren't even taking this seriously," Qrow snapped. "Look, I was _fucking_ _worried_ , okay?" That made Clover's jaw click shut with a snap, completely silent. "Do you think you're fucking invincible or something? Is that what everyone else thinks? Just the other day you were giving _me_ a lecture about how people don't see past your _Semblance,_ and here you are acting like-" He paused to rake a hand down his face, letting out a harsh breath, and he looked so tired Clover ached for him. "Whatever. Just- just whatever. Fuck you," he said with no real heat, though he certainly sounded upset, and turned and stormed away for the door.

"Wait, Qrow-" Clover tried to call out, leaning up in bed and wincing at the pain it caused. He let himself fall back against the pillows and groaned, watching the door slam shut. The sound felt like it reverberated in his head for a good few minutes.

Well, he'd screwed that up.

* * *

"I think you pissed your bird off," Harriet told him the next morning as she munched on an apple.

"Thank you, Harriet, I wasn't aware," Clover muttered.

"I mean, with the way he's acting, you'd think you were dying or something, so we thought we'd come give you this fruit basket-" That she was currently eating out of. "For speedy recovering." That she was currently devouring. "But you look fine to me, just kind of like a kicked puppy."

" _Thank you,_ Harriet."

"I take offense to that," Marrow said, looking, as he said, offended.

"I think what Harriet means is," Vine interjected, much more politely, "is that something has upset Qrow and it seems to involve you."

"He keeps pacing outside the medical wing entrance like it'll burn him to touch the door," Elm continued, standing with her arms crossed in the corner. "It stresses me out just watching him."

"And what _she_ means is, can you just apologize already?" Marrow whined. He sat cross-legged on the floor, by Harriet's chair, while Vine stood with his arms folded behind his back near the door. "I think if you two would just bone already all this tension would be gone."

"Marrow," Clover said sharply, chastising him. It didn't really work.

"You do look very, as they say, 'down in the dumps,' however," Vine noted, making Clover sigh and place a hand over his face. "I think it would be beneficial for you to make up with Huntsman Branwen post haste."

"Preferably with a lot of tongue," Harriet interrupted.

"Can you all just _leave_?" Clover asked, refusing to resort to begging, even if he wanted to. 'Restful recovery' was not possible with his team around. Their relationship had changed some since team RWBY and their friends had arrived- they seemed closer, in a way. Since they seemed so comfortable badgering him. "Or else I need to be heavily medicated."

Harriet suddenly perked up, a light in her eyes that was only a little less terrifying than when her eyes lit up with her Semblance. "I know! I'll just get him to come to you. I'll tell him your blood pressure spiked and the doctors think you're having a heart attack or something."

"Harriet, NO."

She sunk into the chair like a child who'd had their idea for the science fair stomped upon.

"To be fair," Elm said, snatching a banana and starting to peel it, "that might be funny to see. At least he'd come into the medical wing."

"Guys, _please_ ," Clover groaned, wishing he could page the nurse to ask for the good juice that would make him sleep. But that wasn't professional. "Look, my aura will have healed this in a couple of hours, so when I get up and around I'll go and sort this out, all right? There's no need to get involved with lies about heart attacks." He gave Harriet a sharp look, but she just returned it with a defiant one. "Now please get out of my hospital room before I page a nurse for harassment."

"You wouldn't do it, but I'll take pity on you anyway," Harriet told him, which made him feel a bit pathetic, but at least it got them out of his room and his hair.

* * *

It was dark when Clover opened his eyes. He had taken a little cat nap when his team had left, but apparently he'd slept till night; there was a rolling table with a change of uniform and a clipboard on it beside his bed, which meant he was free to leave, but the nurses seemed to have taken pity on him and let him sleep and have a break.

It was nice, actually. Clover was always working, always doing something, it felt like there hardly ever was a break.

The door slowly opened with a tiny creak. Curious, Clover looked up and felt surprise course through him when he saw Qrow peaking his head in, one hand already rubbing his eyes.

Groaning, Qrow stepped fully inside and let the door swing shut, still rubbing his face. "Okay," he said, sounding resigned. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. You can go ahead and call me an idiot now."

"What?"

Dragging the hand down his face, Qrow gave him a tired look and reached for the chair. He rolled it a bit closer to him before sitting down, looking like a horse that might spook at any moment. "I get it, I'm sorry, go ahead and say whatever you want to; I'm always in the wrong anyhow."

That sounded a bit depressing. "No you aren't," Clover countered, trying to keep his tone gentle. "You had a right to be upset. I was being lackadaisical about all this. And, well, I was trying to calm you down, but I think I had the opposite effect."

That, at least, made Qrow crack a small smile. "So what you're saying is we're both idiots?"

Clover chuckled. "You're too smart to be an idiot, but I may be."

A small laugh escaped the man. He looked away, red rising to his cheeks, and Clover's stomach flipped.

"To be honest," he admitted, "no one's been that worried about me in a while. Ever, maybe. I didn't fully know how to react."

Qrow looked at him with a frown. It was a misfortune to see the smile fade. "No one's ever been _worried_ about you?"

"Well, people have been worried," Clover corrected. "Just not...so worried. Don't get me wrong, when I was starting out and got my first serious injury, it wasn't like I was alone in the hospital with no one to visit me. But as my career progressed, it just... People get used to things. It's Clover, he'll always be fine," he parroted with a light tone, trying to lighten the mood, but it just made Qrow frown more.

"That's bullshit. People die all the time."

"I know," Clover replied. He stared at Qrow, in the hunch of his shoulders, and thought that that was yet another thing that made Qrow so different from so many of the people in Atlas. How many people had he had to watch die? As it stood, there were some Hunters in Atlas who hadn't actually had a comrade die. Their skills may have been great, but Qrow was so experienced in so many ways others weren't. His life seemed to Clover like a tightly wound ball of yarn he wanted to unravel so he could hear every story.

 _I'm sure he's very experienced,_ Harriet's little shit of a voice sounded off in his head, making heat rise to Clover's face. He shook his head to dispel the thoughts. Those were for another time. Preferably in the shower, alone.

"Well, I'm doing all right now," he said, sitting up with a stretch. He caught sight of a small vase of flowers on the bedside table and raised an eyebrow.

Qrow caught what he was looking at and coughed lightly into his fist, looking a bit embarrassed. "Those are from Ruby. She kept badgering me to come back in here and apologize. I actually did stop by earlier, but you were, uh...asleep."

Clover laughed. Qrow pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at the wall, muttering something that was probably derogatory. "I'll have to thank her tomorrow. Right now, I just want to get back to my own bed. This one is nice enough, but I don't think the leader of the Ace Ops should be lounging in the medical wing for no reason."

Slipping out of bed on the side opposite the chair, where the table was, Clover reached up and unclipped the fixing on his shoulder of the medical gown he wore, tossing it onto the bed. He heard Qrow's sharp intake of breath, and laughed a bit to himself as he pulled his uniform on, going slower than entirely necessary. His clover pin was still missing, strangely enough, but that wasn't all too important right now.

He turned around, and caught Qrow's eyes moving quickly. He'd turned to the side, and used his hand as a shield again, staring at the far wall while a stubborn flush clung to his face. Clover swung around the bed and leaned down a bit, grinning when he poked the man in the forehead. "Up for a game of poker, Qrow? It's early, after all. I'm sure you have time tonight to lose some more."

"Psh," Qrow muttered, leaning back before swinging forward and rolling to his feet, giving Clover's shoulder a shove as he did. It was friendly, and made Clover grin wider. "Whatever, show-off. I'll make you eat those words."

A retort Harriet would have come up with sat eager on his tongue. Clover resolutely didn't let it roll off and resolved to make her do double laps the next day if she uttered a single word or joke about make-up sex.


	4. circle game

Qrow had been thinking about the fight with the Grimm for days. He had only really thought about it long after, but he remembered the flash of panic he felt when he saw Clover get hit. The desperation. How he'd rushed forward and hadn't even paid attention to anything other than saving the man. 

But it hit him, eventually, that the ice under that Grimm had cracked. It shouldn't have- it was so thick. 

Qrow was pretty sure he'd made it crack.

The thought scared him. Maybe scared wasn't the right word- but part of him was wary to approach the idea that maybe Clover was right; maybe he could control his Semblance, maybe he wasn't bad luck, maybe he wasn't a shit person-

And that was what made him nervous. Qrow didn't know how to approach not feeling at least a little bit like a shit person.

He'd accidentally been avoiding Clover for a few days too, after he'd gotten out of the medical wing, and he was pretty sure the man noticed. He noticed _everything_ Qrow did. To be fair, he did make a few more botched attempts to return the clover pin, but that didn't count as interaction. 

It seemed he would never outrun being stupid, at least, because it was pretty stupid to think Clover wouldn't catch up with him at some point, and catch up with him he did. He appeared out of nowhere just as Qrow exited another supply closet he'd been looking for blankets in. Goddammit.

"Looking for something?" Clover asked with a cocked eyebrow, tilting his head. Goddammit again.

"No," Qrow lied, which was a very good lie. It was literally the only thing in the hallway. And now Clover was standing in the hallway. "I was, uh...took a wrong turn."

"Right," Clover said, in that irritating tone that told Qrow he didn't believe him but was going to entertain his nonsense anyway, as he unfolded his arms and put his hands on his hips. He really shouldn't move his arms at any point when he talked to Qrow. It just made him look at them and his goddamned lack of sleeves. "Well, _I_ was looking for something."

"Oh really? What's that?" Please don't say clover pin, Qrow thought.

"You."

God, why couldn't he have said his clover pin?

"Me? What for?"

Clover rolled his eyes. It was such a genuine thing, unlike those stale smiles of his he used to talk to Atlas personnel, that it made Qrow's stomach flutter. "I'm not dumb, Qrow. You've been avoiding me."

"What? Me? Never!" Qrow countered, throwing his hands in the air. "I'm a professional."

"Really?" Clover grinned such a wide grin it couldn't have been fake, looking like he wanted to bust out laughing. "A professional, you say? Well, my mistake then. I suppose a professional has no reason at all to avoid any of his teammates."

"Nope."

"Then again, a professional should always keep his guard up. You might have heard me coming."

"I knew you were there, obviously," Qrow fibbed as he went to slip by him. It wasn't a particularly narrow hallway, but he did have to turn his shoulder to do it. "Nothing catches me by surprise."

"Oh, really?"

Qrow yelped when a hand seized the collar of his shirt and twisted him around. His back hit the wall, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to knock the breath out of him. His aura crinkled around him, activated in his surprise to protect him.

His eyes trailed up and met the intense green of Clover's. He wasn't leaning too close, but his arm was pressed against Qrow's chest, hand stilled tangled in his collar, and he'd leaned a knee casually on the wall beside him. "Nothing catches Huntsman Branwen by surprise, you say?" he teased, with a shit-eating grin. 

Qrow swallowed the lump in his throat. He was a healthy, mostly-active man in only his thirties, and being tossed against a wall by anyone else- let alone Clover- was bound to awaken a reaction in him. His brain focused on several things at once, from the bulk of Clover's thigh and the way his pants molded so blessedly to his skin to the strength in the arm pressing against him. Something dumb somewhere in his brain goaded him into suggesting arm-wrestling for one of their random games.

Because it really, really wanted to see how strong Clover actually was.

"Nothing at all," he breathed out, not breaking eye contact despite how much he wanted to just stare at the other man's body for a while.

Clover's eyes bore into his. It was as if their banter had evolved to the point they didn't even need to speak now. Qrow was a _professional_ , after all, who saw everything coming, so he must have seen this coming. And then let Clover do it. And clearly, he'd been avoiding him, and it had nothing to do with his hospital visit. 

"Really? Now that's interesting," Clover told him, like he was taking notes on a weather experiment, leaning just an inch closer to him. He wasn't breaking eye contact, either.

"Is it, shamrock?"

Something flickered in Clover's eyes. Qrow had caught him a few times over the past few days, whether it was taking a break during training or in the kitchen or in his off times, staring into space with an odd expression. The look on his face almost looked like that, now. 

Clover moved his hand- unfortunately away from Qrow's skin- to the wall beside his head, taking a completely casual pose, but his eyes were still intense. He was trying to make Qrow look at it, he just knew. This was some sort of twisted chicken. He could have sworn he saw a golden glint when Clover moved his hand. 

"Maybe it's a ruse to take me off guard," Clover continued, eyes dancing, and Qrow's brain had checked out a little bit, otherwise his breathing would've been more unsteady. "Get a little revenge for all my victories."

"I think you've got a big head. It only means something to win when it counts, Cloves," Qrow drawled, the words flowing out without him really thinking about them, and he breathed in slowly when that expression came back onto Clover's face and his eyes darkened. 

He leaned in closer, just far enough away they wouldn't be sharing breath, and raised an eyebrow. "What do I still have left to win, then?"

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,_ went Qrow's brain, because he was running out of retorts. 

"Dunno, but I have a real bad habit of losing, so you better figure it out," his mouth somehow produced, then his brain finally remembered he had feet and he slithered out from between the other man and the wall. He simultaneously cursed himself for saying that and for walking away so quickly when he felt Clover's eyes tracking him.

* * *

"I've been thinking of games we haven't played," Clover told him the next morning, over their coffee, which always made Qrow feel just a bit more prone to laughing- somehow, that had migrated across non-blood relations to Ruby- as he rhythmically tapped his fingers on the table. One, two, three. Over and over again. "How about horseshoe?"

Qrow almost snorted hysterically. The other man was still entertaining this (lie? euphemism? shared delusion?) pretending not to notice what they were both clearly noticing and Qrow made a point not to notice. "Absolutely not. You literally throw something to fight with- you clearly have the advantage."

Clover smiled at him. "I've never actually played horseshoe before, if you can believe it. You never know I may not."

Ever since their auras had touched yesterday- which Qrow was convinced was what had happened, because it had been like he could feel the tension double-fold- it was even harder to avoid Clover, because Qrow just wanted to be around him even more. It was to such a pathetic extent he almost said yes. 

"Nope," he said, looking away from the man's too-convincing face and taking a sip from his mug. "Besides, where the fuck would we find horseshoes?"

"That's fair. I don't actually know if any even exist in Atlas."

Qrow snorted. He smirked, letting out a little laugh, and tossed his head back as he ran his hand through his hair, mussing it up from how he'd combed it that morning. Yang insisted he at least use a comb when it got shaggier, instead of going with the good old method of brushing it with his fingers. "Something the famed Clover Ebi doesn't know? Gasp!"

He looked at the other man and quirked an eyebrow. Clover averted his gaze with a mild heat to his face, having been staring at him without saying a word. "Well, we've exhausted the card games we both know-" He went with instead of retorting.

"And anything on the internet."

"And poker gets boring after a few hundred rounds."

"That's what a quitter says," said Harriet out of nowhere, literally, as she came speeding into the kitchen with her semblance. She surveyed them with a predatory smile that became even more evil when she looked closely at Clover's face. Qrow wasn't extremely familiar with the Ace Ops' dynamic, but he gathered easily enough she liked tormenting him. "But I have something you're free to play. Come around the common room tonight, we're playing strip poker."

An alarm bell and a ping of interest went off simultaneously in Qrow, because that presented both the mortifying option of getting naked in front of the Ace Ops and seeing Clover get naked. 

"Harriet," Clover began, in that reproachful tone of his, just a notch under typical Atlas-scandalized, "that's hardly appropriate-"

_Oh, is he scared?_ Qrow thought with a grin, then, like an idiot, opened his mouth, because he wanted to egg it on, which was stupid, because he was trying to avoid embarrassment.

"Sure, I'm in."

Clover froze mid-chastisement and his head snapped around to stare at him. His eyes had widened slightly, and in the background, Qrow could see Harriet let out a mischievous little chuckle to herself. 

"Why not?" he asked with an innocent shrug. "You did say we were out of games."

"Well- yes, but- well. All right." 

Clover kept staring at him like a startled bird (ironic) even as Harriet laughed and went to make herself cereal. "Well then don't be late. Twenty-one hundred hours."

Qrow sipped his coffee and reflected on how moronic of a decision he'd just made. He probably should have said no, he thought. But the thought of getting Clover to lose was too tempting. 

"What's the matter, rabbit's foot?" he said, in almost a sing-song tone. "You look taken by surprise. Almost unprofessional."

Clover's eyes clouded over. He looked like he was thinking about something as he turned his head away. "Not at all."

Qrow smirked and hid it behind his mug. If there was _any moment_ in his entire life that he had any good luck that may kick in, he hoped it would happen later that night. 

If he managed to avoid embarrassing himself. That was the most likely option, if he was being honest. Unless he cheated. 

Qrow was rather good at cheating. 


	5. bluff catcher

There was a large amount of broken hand mirrors stowed away in a tiny unused supply closet deep within the Atlas base's halls.

And a large amount of confused personnel who'd had their mirrors go missing.

_"How do you do it, Ruby?"_

_"Do what?"_

_"You know, the whole...silver-eye, flashy flash, no more Grimm thing."_

_"Oh! Well...I'm still not very sure, but...I just think about...everything I want to protect."_

Oscar and Ruby's conversation had floated around in his head for a while. He'd thought about when he cracked that ice again, and how desperate he'd been to get to Clover. All his life he'd thought there really was no way to control it, but things were starting to make a frightening amount of sense.

Other Hunters sometimes struggled to control their Semblances at first. They acted up when they got nervous or got into the heat of battle. But they always ended up learning to use them, which was why Qrow had thought himself different, because his entire life was a string of curses and failures. But when he thought about everything he had to protect...really thought about _who_ he wanted to protect now, focused on that _sensation_ and let it flow through him, he felt something a bit different. He ended up with broken mirrors in his hands. And that made him nervous, too, which made him have to walk the base in a full circle at least five times to get his nerves off, which ended up in a lot of small accidents and slip-ups around him. But he tried, as hard as he could, tried not to focus on the guilt and the general feeling of shittiness that came with thinking of his Semblance, because it felt selfish. The kids were dealing with as much as he was, _Ruby_ was dealing with how to wield her own power, how could he afford to sit around and let himself waste away in self-pity still? Even after all these years?

He didn't tell Clover about his (very small, but still) successes (if one could call breaking mirrors successes). Even though the man had helped him take this step forward- helped him a _lot_ \- Qrow felt like it was something he needed to do on his own. He didn't want to completely rely on anyone to do this for him.

_"I was cursed. No one wanted me."_

He shook his head as if it could shake the thoughts away. Something nagging told him that maybe that was the change now. He loved his nieces, of course he did, and he knew they adored him, but he'd always thought he had to protect them from his Semblance. And besides that, he _had_ to be there for them, even if he'd tried to keep a distance for so long to do so-

The thought that someone _had_ chosen him, _did_ want him, even with all his fuck-ups, even completely aware of what he was, was different. It made him think about everything differently.

The thought that perhaps he wasn't a curse after all.

_"Qrow, just let yourself be happy for once, will you?"_

_Yeah, yeah, like it's that easy,_ he thought, looking down at the new ring on his left hand. He'd found it in a random shop in Mantle. He was starting to collect more jewelry now that he wasn't wandering around as much; it was just habit. _But maybe I am part of the problem._

A familiar laugh up ahead made his chest flutter. It was cliche, and silly, like the parts in books where someone's heart skipped a beat. Something new, that made him feel good about himself, that still acknowledged his flaws but didn't mind them- that was what was starting to make Qrow really feel like he could do this. Maybe he would never be perfect at using his Semblance, but he could at least keep it under control.

He spotted one Clover Ebi, as sleeveless as ever, and his hand curled instinctively around the clover pin in his pocket. He really needed to find a way to get it back to the man. Maybe...he could use his bad fortune to get the man to trip, and then just throw the pin out there, and hope he'd see it and in shock assume it had been in his pocket all along.

All right, that was a stupid thought. Extremely stupid. Qrow was really losing his game.

And besides, he really doubted he was to the point he could use his misfortune so casually. Even if it'd be funny.

"Keep telling yourself that," Harriet said, wearing her usual competitive grin as she stood beside her leader with her hands on her hips. She always looked a little competitive, but Qrow had seen a different smile on one of the nights he'd woken in cold sweats and needed to go down some terrible vinegar in an unused kitchen and she'd sat there beside him and talked about who she had to go home to. They didn't meet up like that often, but they did sometimes, and the woman had a soft side deep down. "You're barely hanging onto your spot as it is."

"Come on, Hare, we don't need to compare!" Elm retorted in that loud, booming voice of hers, then started laughing as she slung an arm around her teammate's neck. "Hah! Get it? Hare? Compare?"

"God, Elm."

"Waste too much time on fraternizing, and we'll take that spot from you," one of the people the trio of Ace Ops were talking to purred out, a teasing smirk on her face. Despite the friendliness, Qrow could sense an undercurrent of true competition.

The woman was tall- not a giant like Elm, though- with a standard-looking cut similar to Winter's, though her hair was black. It was the same shade as the man she stood beside, who stood even with Clover. They wore uniforms that almost looked like the Ace Ops' turned inside out. They were blue all over with white and red spots of detail.

There was an odd tension on the air between the supposed colleagues. Always one to look for something funny to lead someone into, Qrow strolled up to the group in the hall with his hands in his pockets. The operatives he was familiar with had their backs to him, but the other two could see him approaching. They were definitely related- they both had the black hair and bright blue eyes. The woman was shorter, but she had a muscular build like her (probable) brother. They leaned their heads to the side in a similar gesture to raise an eyebrow at him.

That made the others turn around, and Clover's expression changed when he saw him. It made Qrow feel just a little bit self-satisfied, he had to admit. That reminded him of one of his other favorite games: playing oblivious and pretending not to notice any of the flirting they were both engaging in. He wasn't dumb; he _definitely_ noticed, but it was fun to watch Clover think he didn't and keep getting more and more obvious in his attempts.

"I thought there was a rule against blocking hallways," he said with a dry grin as he stopped beside Clover, wondering at the weird atmosphere.

"We aren't blocking the hallway," the woman shot back, though not unfriendly, as she planted her hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow. "I'm assuming you're Huntsman Branwen?"

"Your outfits are enough to block out anything, between all five of you," Qrow quipped, which made Harriet snort, Elm let out a small chuckle under her breath that _still_ somehow sounded loud, and the man quirk another eyebrow at him. Clover looked away from him with a small smile on his face. "And I'm just an old crow. Who're you?"

"This is Russet and Brann," Clover broke in, still smiling off in another direction, and Qrow didn't miss how it made the other man tap an impatient finger against his arm as he stood there with them folded. "They're on another operative team."

"Beta team, to be specific," Brann told him, her tone so dull it must have been some kind of sore spot.

"What, so there's a leaderboard?"

"It's not so much a _leaderboard_ as a _team assignment_ list," Clover replied, looking over at him with barely restrained amusement. "Technically, the Ace Ops are team Alpha. It goes down to Delta."

"Ohhhhhhhh," Qrow said, long and drawn out, as if it all made sense, and looked at Brann. "So you're second place."

The woman's eyebrow twitched. Ignoring Harriet's snickering, she unfolded her arms and curled one hand into a fist. Fabulous restraint, if Winter was Atlas' standard. "It's not second place- even if everyone considers it such."

"There _is_ a reason _we're_ called the _Ace_ Ops," Harriet interrupted, making Brann shoot her as cowl.

"Right, right, I get it. Because you're the aces up Jimbo's sleeve. How clever."

That made Russet shoot yet another raised eyebrow at him. "Jimbo? I'd heard you were cavalier, Branwen, but that makes it an understatement."

"You haven't known him as long as I have. And I have a _number_ of inappropriate stories to back that up," Qrow snickered, waving a hand to illustrate, which made Clover's eyes follow the new ring on it. Qrow knew he noticed everything new.

His tone (and 'cavalier' qualities, Atlas people and their big words) always made some people give him that certain kind of look. It was predictable. Russet eyed him up and down, a little slower than one would any regular old Huntsman, looking vaguely curious. He had the kind of face where it only showed in his eyes.

"I don't think we need to be hearing any inappropriate stories about the general," Clover said with a note of finality, sounding amused, but he apparently noticed too because he turned so his body was angled more towards Qrow's and they were closer together. "That would be unprofessional."

A particular heat crept up underneath Qrow's skin. One word and he felt like he was being challenged to a gambit. "Well, I'm nothing if not a professional."

"Well, if you, being a professional, are ever interested in taking missions with any _other_ team..." Brann drawled, sarcastic.

"I dunno, I'm pretty _satisfied_ with where I am," Qrow said as he turned, leaning to the side and landing with an arm over Clover's shoulder, completely leaning against him as he folded one ankle over the other and examined his nails. Every time he turned into a crow, they needed clipping again. He felt the other man stiffen for the briefest moment, and a bit of red creep up the back of his neck out of the corner of his eye. "Besides, surely you know I bring misfortune. I don't think you'd want to wrangle with that."

He said it in a teasing tone, looking up to eye Russet as he did, barely restraining a wide smile, because he knew exactly what the insinuation was. Clover wasn't _his_ , but yet in a sense _was_ , and he couldn't help but act biased; who else could handle him? Semblance-wise, of course. Obviously.

"Well, should we all be so _lucky_ ," Russet muttered, eyes narrowed in something thoughtful and tense, and yeah, Qrow could definitely sense some "good luck Semblance jealousy" there.

He turned to look at the man himself and grinned. "Yeah, I guess you're lucky, aren't you?"

"Oh," Clover said, looking him right in the eyes, "I suppose I am."

Qrow reached over and patted him on the upper arm, bare muscle under his hand, continuing in his ever-fun game of _Oh, of course we're not flirting._ He heard Clover take a sharp intake of breath. His body was warming under Qrow's hands. "You know what they say," he began innocently, then dropped his voice a few notches into a tone he'd never used with the man before. It was the tone that always got him laid. "Good fortune is a blessing."

He said it as he raked a hand through his hair, backstepping so Clover could see him back away, because as he'd walked up the man hadn't done much other than look him in the face. His eyes immediately landed on Qrow's stomach, where Yang had undone the bottom buttons to his shirt and vest so part of his abdomen showed because "It's just a family fashion statement, Dad," (which may or may not have been based not just on her stubborn fashion statements but Taiyang's in his earlier years) and frankly, he couldn't regret it now, because the heat was crawling up Clover's face as Qrow turned away and sauntered off and that was definitely worth it.

He'd rounded the hallway and was out of sight when he could have sworn he heard Harriet going off, " _He's fucking with you! I swear he's fucking with you!"_ echoing faintly behind him as Elm laughed.

He looked down at the floor as he passed someone carrying a bunch of balloons- probably for someone in the medical wing- and tapped his heel against the floor as subtly as he could, the smallest flash of silver the only thing marking it as he tried to use his Semblance. A startled shriek rang behind him as three of the balloons popped.

Qrow grinned. Maybe being in a good mood helped him with this misfortune shit too.

If anything, it would make their game of poker that night easier.


	6. betting limit

Qrow had to admit he'd been getting...fond, of the Ace Ops. The mere idea of them had been a little laughable to him at first, and a few years ago he would have snorted in derision and then went back to his bottle, and considering his luck with teams, he had initially had doubts he'd like any of them at all.

But, despite it all, (and he'd probably grow to regret it), they were as likable as a bunch of Atlesians could be. Even if they _said_ they were only colleagues and not friends, they didn't act like it, if being invited to a game of strip poker was any indicator.

Harriet obviously had a soft side under that bravado and actually respected his skills quite a bit. She hadn't said so much, but he recognized it when someone looked impressed. Vine was...quiet, but not in a judgmental way; he reminded Qrow of Ren. Marrow was as excitable as a total rookie, sometimes, and Qrow had to find it endearing, considering what he put up with from his nieces. And Elm was kind of just _Elm_ , there wasn't any way to describe her; she'd seen him come into the Ace Ops kitchen for breakfast after Clover invited him and gotten up to scream at him in welcome. Whenever they were on an airship and it rocked, she always set a steady hand on his shoulder. Somehow it wasn't patronizing. She was like a giant tree that tried to take care of everyone in extremely subtle ways.

Clover was still his ~~favorite~~ partner, and he wasn't on their team, but it was nice to feel like he was, sometimes.

He found himself laughing off something stupid Marrow had said one mission, ruffling the man's hair on his way down the ramp from their ship, and though it had made him squawk in indignance, he'd immediately chased after him and started raving. Qrow vaguely remembered the operative squeaking (okay, he wasn't squeaking, but it was practically a squeak to Qrow's ears, he had like twelve children to deal with on a constant basis) an "Are you listening?" to which he'd replied with his trademark amused "Nope."

That was why he found himself less nervous than he'd thought he'd be as he knocked on Harriet's door. At least he knew all their names now. It was fairly large inside, and had a small common space where the others sat around a round table he could see when she opened the door.

"Branwen!" she crowed with a grin, still in her uniform. Did they ever take those things off? "Come on in."

Hands in his pockets, Qrow strolled in and pretended not to notice Clover noticing him. Or notice Clover in general. The man was sitting on one side of the table with his legs folded neatly beneath him, with Elm to his left and Vine to his right.

Crackling with lightning, Harriet slapped down a soda can on the table right as he reached it, which made him raise an eyebrow as he sat on the floor. She plopped down beside him. None of them were drinking any alcohol, they all had soda as well, and he couldn't help but feel like that was maybe on purpose. It definitely did not make his stomach flip or make him feel warmer in the room.

"Didn't invite Marrow," Harriet said with a snicker, taking a deck out of nowhere and starting to deal. "I figure he needs to get a little more experience under his belt before joining in."

Vine let out the quietest sigh. "I still do not see the point of this game."

Elm slammed her hands on the table, disrupting the neat stacks of chips Harriet had set out, which made the other woman glare at her. "The point is fun! It gets funny, it gets embarrassing, it brings down walls! Besides, who wouldn't want to shed a layer in this heat?"

Qrow's eyebrow twitched. Heat? He could have sworn Harriet kept her room temperature at sixty.

"Just try not to keep your losing streak up," Harriet told him, sniggering. "It'd be awkward if you're the only one who ends up naked."

"Hey, energizer bunny, I can hold my own. Besides, I'm sure the rest of you'll have some bad luck tonight."

Across the table, a small smile flitted across Clover's face. "Does jewelry count?"

"No," Elm and Vine said simultaneously as Harriet went "Yes!"

She gave them both a playful glare. "It's in my room tonight, so I make the rules. That's how it works. And I say every three pieces of jewelry counts as one clothing item."

"Well, you still have the advantage," Clover said to him with a teasing smile. "You're like an actual crow, collecting those trinkets."

"Yeah, yeah," Qrow retorted, waving his left hand, which by now had six rings on it and pointedly ignoring how close to him Clover actually was. "You're just mad because I wear it better."

"Oh, I'm not denying you wear it well."

Qrow held back on choking on his tongue. That was definitely a dick move, in such a blatantly flirtatious tone, in front of all the others. Probably pay back for earlier. Innocently, he picked up his cards. "That was obvious already."

He cracked open his soda with his other hand and took a sip without reading the label. It was strawberry flavored, even though the others looked like grape or orange, and he felt silly for noticing such a tiny thing, let alone looking into it so much, but a nagging thought said that maybe Harriet or someone else had noticed that was the flavor he liked from when they ate in the cafeteria together.

When Clover looked up at Elm when she said something, and he wasn't looking- because Qrow was sure the other man would be the one to notice if he did something- he tapped the table as subtly as he could. He wasn't sure if he felt something, but Harriet lost the round almost hilariously quickly, and a thrill ran through him as he wondered if it was raw luck or his luck.

"Dammit," she said, with no real fire, as she tossed off her neckerchief. It continued that way, with her, Elm, and Vine alternating taking off small parts of their uniforms, and Qrow held up his cards to hide the smile on his face.

His eyes roamed up and met Clover's. They held a certain sparkle, and the man was casting him an odd smile. "Feeling lucky, Qrow?"

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe winning too much just gives you a big head."

Clover's eyes dipped a shade. His smile turned into something more like a smirk, mischievous and teasing, a look he'd never aimed at him before, and Qrow's stomach flipped in a completely different way. The man put forth a larger bet that time, and Qrow could have sworn he saw the faintest golden glint on his hand when he did, and on that round, he lost.

"Wow, poor me," he said exaggeratedly, taking off three of his rings. "I feel _so_ naked."

"Don't get too cocky, Branwen," Clover warned him, the teasing in his voice too. "It may be your downfall."

"That would be unfortunate."

It may have depressed Qrow, at some point, that Clover's Semblance was now obviously overpowering- or just working better- than his, but now it just made competition stir in him. He lost three rounds in a row, divesting him of all his rings, his bracelets, his earrings, and the tiny horseshoe necklace that had been hiding under his shirt.

Just as a little revenge, he made sure to drape that one across his stack with a little slowness, not breaking eye contact. Clover's eyes burned into him with an intensity they rarely got up to in their casual flirting most days.

"Wow, you got pretty lucky there, shamrock. Almost _suspiciously_ lucky."

"Are you accusing me, Qrow? I would never," Clover replied with an exaggerated hand to his chest with his signature boy scout smile. He'd been reluctant to play the other day, but now he seemed just as invested as the rest of them. "You seemed to be pretty lucky yourself earlier."

"Well, maybe luck turns around," Harriet quipped with a smirk, looking down at the table as she dealt. Qrow's eyes caught on her movements as he paused, and she- did she just pull a slip of the hand? Was Harriet _helping him cheat?_

Well, he certainly wasn't going to complain.

So he started to actually cheat, not just with his Semblance. He couldn't make it look too obvious, so he tried to lead Elm into losing again. The woman let out a loud groan as she tossed off her jacket.

Laughing about something, Harriet tossed her empty soda can over their heads and it slammed into the wall. As quick as a sly little fox, she passed him a card under the table, their fingers touching for the briefest moment. Qrow tried to curtail the smirk he knew he wore, as Elm laughed and Vine let out another quiet little sigh that hid how much fun he was having and Clover smiled as he surveyed his own cards, and Qrow tried with all his might to put his misfortune into effect again.

He didn't know if Semblances were things that could fight against each other, but it certainly felt a little more difficult than before. But, he was pretty sure he (or more accurately, they) were about to win anyway.

"Hah!" Harriet cried, pointing at Clover in a way that would look quite unprofessional were they in the cafeteria or some other place, practically cackling. "Take it off!"

Clover gave them a smile that looked like he was entertaining their being childish as he stripped off his vest. Unwise, only wearing a tank top underneath, Qrow thought. He himself technically had on three layers: his undershirt, his shirt, his vest, his cape. But good luck for him.

Because just a few minutes later, he was laying his cards out and smirking so widely he could feel his own brattiness radiating from him. "Looks like I win again."

Elm shook like an actual tree about to fall over in the forest while Vine gave Clover an overly sympathetic stare, which Qrow had come to understand was his way of teasing right now. Harriet practically vibrated with laughter beside him, but Clover only rolled his eyes as he reached for the bottom of his shirt.

Qrow watched his arms flex as he peeled it off and set it on top of the vest behind him. Then his eyes roamed down, as Clover turned back, across a well-defined chest, over the faint scar over the man's right pectoral that was probably from something shallow, down to his abs, down to the trail of hair that led under his belt.

Harriet slammed another can of soda down, laughed again, and Qrow broke his gaze away, feeling embarrassed but not particularly trying to hide anything in his face. He licked his lips as he turned his eyes to his cards, knowing Clover was staring at him, could clearly see he'd been staring at him, and was watching his tongue as it darted out of his mouth.

The next round left Elm to take off her jacket and leave her in a red undershirt. She laughed good-naturedly, and the continuation of the game provided Qrow with the time to keep darting his eyes back to that chest when Clover happened to not be looking at him.

"I think we should make this more interesting than just stripping," Harriet beamed suddenly, slamming yet another can of soda down on the table. She'd had to have gone through four by now. Were they like Redbull to her? "Loser has to answer a question."

"Such as?" Vine asked.

"Whatever embarrassing shit we want to ask, clockwise."

"Sure, why not!" Elm yelled, amusement shining in her eyes.

The game felt like it was devolving into a little bit of chaos. His and Clover's Semblances were rolling around each other, his and Harriet's cheating was making everything get mixed up, and somehow it happened that they each lost a round in sequence and Qrow was left to start them off with something to ask. It felt like he was in high school playing truth or dare, almost. It felt...well, fun. Even if he had to keep his eyes off Clover's entire body 75% of the time.

Harriet whispered in his ear when his question came. He raised an eyebrow at Elm. "What's the watermelon incident Winter mentioned once?"

"Ah." For once, great heat rose to the woman's face. "Nobody else knew about that...I was taking a watermelon we'd managed to harvest from an indoor garden to show the general and accidentally smashed it over his head when I got too excited."

"What?! How the fuck do you do that accidentally?" Harriet squawked.

"I got excited!"

And it ultimately came back around to him, and to his luck (good or bad, he didn't know) it was Harriet's turn.

"Why the fuck you collect so much jewelry?" she asked, poking at his stack, because they'd all seen him wear other pieces instead of only the ones there.

"What? I just like it," Qrow said, feeling a little insulted when she gave him a suspicious look. "Can a man not wear metal rods in his ears for fun, Bree?"

He could feel Clover staring at him, which was making red rise up his neck. Harriet grinned at him. She was obviously not fully convinced. "Yeah, I'm sure you _like_ it, but I feel like there's more to it. It's not like you have literally any other possessions."

"...all right, fine," Qrow relented with a twitch, wondering why the ever-loving hell he was admitting this to them. "I have...a mild form of...kleptomania when it comes to. Shiny objects."

For a moment, they all paused. Then all hell broke loose.

Elm started laughing so loud Qrow worried it may wake the other operative team, even though their quarters were far away from the Ace Ops', and Vine covered his mouth to conceal a smile. Harriet started giggling, a sound he'd never heard before, which was frankly terrifying, and Clover smiled at him in such a way it sent butterflies fluttering in his chest.

 _"Fuck,"_ Harriet wheezed, grasping at the table. "You're actually like an actual crow!"

Qrow's cheeks went red. He was embarrassed, but at least it was a different kind of embarrassment than when other students at Beacon had used to mock him for being a bandit. That had felt hateful, somehow, but he didn't feel shitty with them all laughing. They just thought it was funny- and it was, he supposed. His whole existence felt like a practical joke.

"Well, at least it doesn't impede you on missions," Clover broke in, which made Qrow look at him again, which was a mistake, because he was wearing such a tickled grin it made dimples appear in his cheeks and a sparkle linger in his eyes. It made heat rush to Qrow's own face.

But, this time, Clover was staring at him in a certain kind of way, and it occurred to Qrow the man had a very particular piece of shiny jewelry still missing and he had probably just implicated himself, and the sparkle in Clover's eyes was the same one as when he started to flirt with him and had a pun ready that Qrow was always unprepared for.

Well...fuck.

Their game continued for at least an hour, but with the luck and Qrow's emotions bouncing all around, it was inevitably Elm who ended up nude first, and they ended the game with a bang. A literal bang, as she stood up to show off and swung her fist so hard she accidentally put a hole in Harriet's wall, laughing the entire time.

* * *

There was lingering laughter both behind and ahead of Qrow as he stalked down the hall back towards his own room. It felt nice, not to spend an evening alone, and to have a good mood hang around. It reminded him of the good old days, before Summer had gone, before Raven and Tai had even gotten together, when they played card games on the floor of his and Tai's dorm room and snuck the occasional beer in.

"Hey, Qrow."

Qrow paused and turned, expecting a clothed Clover to greet him, and almost choked when Clover strolled up to him in the dim hall, holding his shirts over his shoulder. He stopped with one hand on his hip, a cheeky smile on his face, and Qrow frantically ripped his eyes away to look somewhere at the far wall.

"What's up, lucky charm? Shouldn't you be heading to bed? Wouldn't want you to get anything less than your Atlas-standard seven hours in."

A chuckle rumbled out of Clover's chest. His well-defined, thick, smooth-looking chest that Qrow would bet felt like rock under his hands.

"Oh, I was just thinking about what you said earlier. About liking shiny jewelry."

"Oh, were you-" Qrow began sarcastically, then startled when Clover leaned closer to him. He automatically shifted back against the wall, which just made him feel cornered, and he felt himself flushing for the hundredth time that evening. The bastard was doing this on purpose.

Clover's eyes shone as he stared down at him. "I've been missing a pin of mine," he said, and for a moment, a lump sat in Qrow's throat because he really thought the man was about to call his bluff on it, "one that looks like a clover. Since you seem to have such a good eye, you could keep one out for it, couldn't you?"

"Uh...yeah," Qrow replied, without any snappy retort for once, darting his eyes to the side. He pushed his hands into his pockets, wrapped his fingers around the exact pin they were talking about, and swallowed. "I'll tell ya if I see it."

"Is that a promise?"

Clover leaned even closer, then moved his hand, resting it on Qrow's hip, and _fuck_ it if Qrow could pretend not to notice that. "Yeah," he breathed, meeting the man's eyes again, because he was still stubborn enough to try. "Though my promises tend to get broken, like most other things around me."

Clover's eyes were _smoldering._ Qrow had given plenty of those kinds of looks in his life, to women and men, but it was rarer that he was on the receiving end, and it left his knees just a little bit weaker.

"Some things can stand up to the pressure," the man said into his ear, which was just vague enough to mean anything, which made Qrow breathe out and realize he'd been holding his breath. "Branwen promise, huh? Good as luck as any."

It was then he leaned back and gave him a smile, and gave him a "Good night, Qrow," and walked down the hall. Qrow stood there watching the muscles of his back, thinking of digging his nails into them.

It was then he jolted, because his hip felt like it was tingling, and he could have sworn Clover's pinky had been resting just over one of Qrow's fingers in his pocket where a bit of metal from the pin jutted up. _Did he know?_

He wondered if it was paranoia or arousal that made him ponder on the possibilities of the answer to that question.   



	7. burn card

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set after ch5 of what father means !

Qrow had been mildly excited to get back to base and see Clover's reaction to the new piercing in his brow- (which looked exceptionally good, in his opinion; having an Aura definitively helped one's healing process) but, to his disappointment, the Ace Ops had been sent out on a last-minute mission. His girls went their ways- Yang and Blake off alone somewhere, probably to make out, if he knew freshly-minted adults well, and Ruby dragged Weiss off to excitedly show Penny their new earrings- and he was left with some pent-up energy.

He stood staring at the mission board, arms crossed, looking at the array of missions up. He could take pretty much any of them, but, well...he'd gotten used to having other people around. A singularly bad idea, given his history, but this time it felt...different.

"Something the matter, Qrow?"

He looked up when he noticed Winter coming up beside him. She didn't look as annoyed as he would have figured, given what she'd overheard in his phone call with James, but her face was still pretty stony.

He shrugged. "Eh. Just got some energy to run off, but..."

She raised an eyebrow at him. She clearly wasn't going to get it, so he let out a beleaguered sigh. "I'm used to going out with the teams, all right?"

"Oh." Her eyebrows both rose in surprise, though she didn't look unfriendly. "I see. Well, it's better not to go out solo given these circumstances." She pulled out her Scroll, which probably had a miniaturized list of the missions board, and cocked the _other_ eyebrow at it while frowning and resting her chin against her fist. "Seeing as the kids aren't an option, or your mission partner, or Alpha team-"

"My what?"

"Hmm?" She looked up and directed the eyebrow back at him. "Your what?"

"My- mission partner?" Qrow asked, radiating palpable confusion. The eyebrow climbed higher. "I have one of those?"

"Do you not look at your own Scroll, Qrow?"

There was a note of derision in her voice that actually embarrassed him a little, and with a cough to cover it up, he pulled out his Scroll and pulled up his license. His stomach flipped as soon as he saw a note at the bottom.

 _Partner - Huntsman - Clover_ _Ebi._

"Uh...when did that happen?"

The eyebrow climbed ever higher. "You two obviously work well together, more efficiently than an entire team at times, so the General thought it would be apt to assign you...did you not want to be partners with him?" A crease formed in her brow, and he would have almost pegged it as concerned if they were more friendly. "I can tell him-"

"No! I mean, no," Qrow coughed out, waving her off and putting his Scroll away. "No problem. I just didn't realize."

"It _is_ the reason you're usually out with Alpha team," she told him, pointedly, like he was a grade-schooler. "However...for today, I suppose you can go on the mission Beta team is carrying out. They're leaving from loading dock thirteen in about half an hour."

"Well, fine with me. Got nothin' else to do."

He waved lackadaisically and started to stroll towards the door. Before he got very far, her voice stopped him again. "Qrow."

He looked back with a cocked eyebrow. Looking awkward, she looked away and took on a rigid, formal stance, looking like it pained her a little to spell out her next words. "Even though the way you _conveyed_ the information was quite... _flippant..._ I do appreciate you doing something nice for Weiss. She looked- very happy earlier."

A slow grin crawled onto Qrow's face. "Aww, ice queen, was that a compliment?"

"I'm not saying it again," Winter insisted, cheeks red. "Now get to the bay before you're left behind!"

She left, snappily as ever, stomping off to probably go stick her head in a freezer. Snickering, Qrow left, sure she would probably send a message ahead about him tagging along. She was professional like that.

* * *

Working with Beta team was...interesting.

Okay, so that was what he said when he had not much nice to say, but he couldn't help it. Besides Russet- the leader- and Brann, there were two other women and a man; Indigo, Claire, and Reolin. Russet and Brann used the exact same type of weapon (the twin schtich? Booooring), broadswords with thick enough hilts it could house a gun. They had the same Semblance, too- they could create a bubble shield around themselves that only lasted about five seconds. Convenient for a quick save, but not much else. Indigo seemed nice enough, apparently named for the color of her eyes, but she hardly said anything at all and just followed Russet's orders, using her speed Semblance- though she was slower than Harriet- to take out straggler Grimm. Claire was by far the nicest of the bunch, in Qrow's opinion, but she was spectacularly boring, wearing a flat smile most of the time and using a plain assault style gun to take out Grimm from mid-range. Reolin had a staff with blades on both ends, fighting both mid-range and close-up, which Qrow supposed made the team balanced, but it still felt incredibly boring.

He also hadn't fought with any of them before, so they had no idea how to fight with him, and they didn't take his Semblance seriously, so he spent most of the time subtly avoiding them. He had to turn into a crow to escape a few rather tight spots that put him in.

"Successful mission, if I say so," Reolin was saying on their transport back, sharpening one of his staff's blades with a stone. He sat right beside Indigo, who was reading something on her Scroll, with Claire a few seats over and Russet and Brann at the end of the row. Qrow sat on the other side entirely.

"We cleared out all the Grimm, so I would say so," Claire noted politely, smiling. God.

It was technically successful, but the Ace Ops would have done it in half the time. They were just...more efficient. It wasn't that Beta were bad Hunters, they just...didn't have that magic that made them a truly wonder-team. There were plenty of teams in Qrow's graduating class that had continued to work together after Beacon, but even in their later years they often never achieved the same smoothness STRQ had held.

"It was a pleasure to work with you, Branwen," Indigo told him, which again, was polite, but Qrow just gave a twitchy smile in response.

"Yeah."

"You should tag along with our team more often," Reolin put in, looking at him with a gaze that felt like he was sizing Qrow up more as a clout machine than a teammate. Qrow didn't like to think too highly of himself, but he knew how infamous he was- how everyone from his old team was- so he knew they probably thought a lot of him being there. "We're just as good as Alpha team, if not better, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, I'm not one to judge."

"You _could_ work with any team you wanted," Brann said, eyeing him with a veiled expression. "Although, aren't you partners with Ebi?"

 _Apparent-fucking-ly,_ Qrow thought, wishing he could zap himself back to the base. She said it with a certain kind of hidden bitterness, kind of like Winter when she was talking about someone she didn't like, and it spread in varying degrees to Reolin's face and the way Russet held himself. Qrow was starting to think having good luck maybe wasn't so lucky after all. Were they really that bitter about Clover being the 'best'? He had _worked_ for where he was, he hadn't had it handed to him on a silver platter.

He shrugged. "Yeah."

"Personally I think he's over-blown," Reolin said, mildly cranky. "Things come easy when you're naturally lucky. If he didn't have that Semblance-"

"Enough, Reo, we can all think of it to ourselves," Indigo said, elbowing him. "I agree it's probably helped him out, but you _are_ speaking to his partner."

"I'm just saying, you don't have to stick with one partner."

Qrow's eyebrow started twitching.

Then, bless the gods, the ship started to descend. It rocked with a small jolt when they docked, and Qrow let out a sigh of relief when the doors opened. The members of team Beta immediately got up to leave, chattering among themselves, and Qrow lazily stood up to follow.

It was just a habit, really, to fall in by the leader, and by virtue of who stepped out first he was left right beside Russet, walking out like he would if the Ace Ops were returning and Clover was exiting the ship. It felt like a weird kind of deja vu, as he strolled down the ramp with his hands in his pockets, but it definitely didn't feel the same. He actually felt _relaxed_ when he was with Clover.

Speak of the devil, and he appeared. Out of the corner of his eye, Qrow saw the man he'd just been thinking of standing on a loading bay just one level below theirs. There was a ship docked there too, so the Ace Ops must have just arrived home.

Somehow, seeing him felt like he'd just interrupted a conversation, even though he was literally just glancing down at the man from above. The Ace Ops were standing around the platform, obviously having just arrived, and Clover had been talking to Winter with his hands on his hips. He was looking up at Qrow, and when Qrow caught sight of him, he saw an expression he'd never seen before: the man was frowning, his eyebrows pulled together, looking actually _annoyed_. It almost shocked him into tripping.

Then he actually fucking tripped, which was just the icing on the cake.

Russet caught him before he either fell flat on his face or went over the side of the ramp, one or the other. He pulled Qrow back up and clapped him on the shoulder, on the side facing Clover, which Qrow couldn't help but feel was a little intentional. "Easy there, Branwen," he said with a classic Atlas soldier smile, letting his hands linger just a moment before he continued walking.

Yeah, Beta team was fucking weird.

Qrow paused and looked back down, surprised to find Clover looked even crankier, somehow. His eyes had gone narrow and he had folded his arms. Was-

Oh, was he fucking _jealous_?

Qrow was not a stupid man. He did many stupid things, but he wasn't dumb. Russet had just been in Clover's _spot_ , basically, and Qrow had been parroting what he usually did with Clover.

And if that wasn't fucking hilarious, he didn't know what was, and he was definitely going to use this to needle the man, but he didn't want to be too cruel. Partially to torture him a little, and partially to reassure him, Qrow let out one of the rare smiles he was always clamping down on, even though it embarrassed him to do it out in public. It was wide, and a little goofy, and too fond, and mostly seen in pictures when Yang and Ruby had been little. He raised a hand to wave.

Clover went ramrod straight, and his eyes widened, and his face went beet red in about 0.2 seconds. It was funny, but Qrow didn't want to trip again, so he turned to actually look at the ramp while he walked.

They weren't close enough Clover could see his eyebrow, but he was sure that would be hilarious later, too.

_You're still my favorite, lucky charm._

* * *

Clover had been absentmindedly checking something off on his Scroll for paperwork purposes when his eyebrow had shot up. Harriet noticed it first, as she stepped out of the ship, and she sidestepped closer to him. "What's so interesting?"

"Nothing, I'm sure, I just saw Qrow's status was active. I didn't think he'd be taking a mission today."

Harriet didn't bother concealing her grin. "Aww, you worried he went out alone again without your big buff arms to keep him warm?"

Clover's face heated, though his expression remained neutral as he looked up and put his Scroll away. "No, Harriet."

"But the little guy doesn't even wear a jacket, though," Elm argued, waving her arms and looking concerned. "I'll use _my_ buff arms to keep him warm if need be! That cape ain't enough!"

"Actually," said Winter as she approached, looking vaguely unimpressed at their banter, "he's on a mission with Beta team."

That made them all pause mid-step. Vine had been hanging back, usually staying out of their banter, with his hands folded, but he raised his eyebrows. Elm stopped completely, frowning, and Harriet narrowed her eyes. To his credit, Clover only looked curious.

"Really? Beta team?" Harriet complained. "He sunk to _Beta_ team?"

Winter cast her a disapproving glance. Harriet did flush a little, folding her arms to avoid looking chastised. "There was no sinking. He was merely looking for a mission to take and all his usual teammates were otherwise occupied, so I suggested he go out with Beta, since they were about to leave. Is that a problem?"

"No," Clover said, quickly, before any of them could say something stupid. "Not at all, ma'am."

"That's well enough, then." Harriet could have sworn she saw a spark of amusement in Winter's eyes before it was gone in a flash. The woman _had_ to have had a funny side, but Harriet was yet to have brought it out. She looked up when they heard another ship docking above. "It looks like they've just arrived as well. Convenient timing."

They watched as the ship's door rolled open. "We're more fun than Beta team," Elm muttered, just loud enough for Harriet and Vine to hear, and Vine rolled his eyes. Even if he agreed.

They recognized Claire and Reolin as they came trotting out first. Then came Indigo, eyes on her Scroll as usual. Brann followed up behind, and then Russet.

And Qrow was right beside him, on his right, strolling with his hands in his pockets with a supremely bored-looking expression on his face. Maybe it was just how he'd come out of the ship, but he usually only stood that close to Clover. Harriet had entertained a little bit of a joke about being jealous of the switch, but a little drama-craving part of her brain actually went _oh, shit_ as she took a quick glance at her leader. Clover had started to frown, which he usually never did, and there was a clear line of tension in his shoulders.

Clover considered himself a rational man, but he couldn't help but feel a little bit... _insulted_ , perhaps, when he saw his usual partner exit the ship with someone else on his side. Especially since it was Russet. Russet, who clearly didn't like him ever since Clover had beaten him seven rounds in a row in their initial testing. It felt particularly _wrong_ , for Qrow to work with Beta instead of the Ace Ops. He actually had a spot with them- they were just strangers.

Qrow glanced down, and then promptly almost tripped and fell clear off the platform. Clover jolted, a knot of tension wedging itself in his stomach at the drop of a hat, and felt his breath freeze when Russet caught Qrow in much a similar way as Clover had once.

The man pulled the other back up, reaching around to pat him on the shoulder, and his hands lingered a little bit too long.

Clover's eyebrow twitched.

Yes, this feeling wasn't nice.

"Shiiiiiit," Harriet whispered, and he couldn't even bother chastising her for being immature, because he was too caught up staring with the deep frown that had come onto his face.

Then Qrow turned, and took a proper look down at him, and did something that set Clover's heart aflutter. A large, affectionate grin appeared on his face, so much so it made the man squint a little, and he aimed it at Clover as he waved and then kept walking.

His heart was pounding faster than it had before. Qrow had smiled before, a few small, shier smiles or big teasing grins, but never anything like that. It was like staring straight into the sun. Just like that, his mood had done a one-eighty, and Clover could only hear the rushing in his ears. When Qrow looked at him like that...

Winter coughed, and he jolted when he felt the heat in his face. "R-right, ma'am," he stammered, realizing she'd just asked him to follow her inside for debriefing. "Come on, guys."

They started inside, and he pretended not to notice Elm quietly whisper-shouting "See! He likes us better!" in excitement.


	8. move the line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which qrow and clover experience true irony in finally experiencing flirting averting

"Hey, shamrock. Turning green?"

Clover froze where he stood, in the hallway leading back to the Ace Ops' kitchen, embarrassment crawling up his neck. Had Qrow noticed his jealousy on the landing pad? Even from way up on high? It wasn't a good look, he knew- they weren't even...anything, technically. Just mission partners. But still-

He turned, and nearly swallowed his tongue when he found Qrow leaning in close, a predatory grin on his face. He had stood in Ironwood's office staring straight ahead, standing over with Beta team, who reported at the same time as Alpha since they'd arrived at the same time (even though the Ace Ops had picked up a mission on the way back), then darted out like a bat out of hell when they'd been let loose. Clover had figured he'd see him at some point, just not now.

His eyes landed on the sparkle above Qrow's eye. He took immediate notice of the green, and it felt like his heart stopped again as his brain bounced around uselessly in his head.

Wait-

Wait, was that just a joke about the color? How could he tell from that grin? Qrow had said shamrock- was he just joking about the-

It was the exact color of his eyes.

Leaning back, Qrow slowly circled him, not breaking eye contact as he smirked at him. "I figured I'd get something for myself while I took the girls out. Think the color suits me? I've never tried green before."

Clover gulped. He really would have had a retort ready if he'd been more- well, ready- but he was still thrown off from the smile Qrow had given him earlier. He was sure he'd looked very foolish outside, standing there frozen like a lovestruck boy. But, well...nothing else could really describe what he'd been feeling.

Obviously, he'd been interested in Qrow from the moment he'd seen him, and he'd been more and more interested as the man started to flirt back. People usually responded well to Clover's flirting (though his friends told him he was way too forward for an operative to be) but he'd never felt anything really as _serious_ as what he felt with Qrow. There was also the fact that Qrow was toying with him, just like Clover was with him, never staying close too long for Clover to reel in. It was an exhilarating game, one that got his blood pumping, but seeing _that smile_ just made it all the more apparent he was really in it deep this time.

Qrow did things no one else had ever done. He worried about Clover on missions, stuck around in the hospital waiting for him to heal, concerned himself with the things that _Clover_ wanted for _himself_ rather than what he could do for everyone else. He was a stunning Huntsman that Clover had heard stories about since his rookie years. Even though they were, in a sense, opposites, he also understood things about Clover and his Semblance that no one else could.

They weren't total opposites, yet they weren't completely similar either- they just balanced each other, they were each other's equals in ways no one else could be.

If soulmates existed, Clover was convinced his was coming round to stand beside him, eyes still glinting.

He cleared his throat. "It compliments you," he said, which wasn't nearly as flirtatious as he usually was, but he was doing his best right now.

Qrow's grin widened. "Yeah, it sure does," he replied flippantly, making Clover's hands start to feel clammy. These two-sided conversations they had, each of them understanding exactly what the other one wasn't saying, Clover always felt at least marginally in control of, but he felt cornered now. "Oh, I got something else, too. Help me out a little."

Frankly, the gleam in the other Huntsman's eyes was now a little terrifying. He turned, taking something out of his pocket, and pulled it around his neck. Clover made the connection that it was a necklace rather quickly, but his brain stalled when he saw how short it was.

Right. Because of course Qrow would do this.

"Of course," he said, giving himself a little credit for keeping his voice steady even as his heart started beating like a drum. He took a step closer, reached up, and took hold of the choker's clasp with equally steady hands. If it was a necklace he could have done it up a good distance away from Qrow's collar, but since it wasn't, his hands were pressed against the other man's neck. His skin was oddly cool, making Clover feel all the more hot, and he raked in a quiet breath as he clasped it.

"Thanks," Qrow said, then pointedly didn't turn around, but leaned back a fraction, turning his head to look at him. It put them at a very, as some might say, unprofessional distance from each other. "Think it suits me too?"

That was when Clover's throat closed on him, with no chance to argue with it. Their faces were only a few inches apart, so close he could almost lean forward and just-

Qrow's eyes burned into him, such a stunning red, and without thinking, Clover's hand had drifted to sit on his hip, and he could _feel_ his pin sitting in the man's pocket- he had been right after all, he'd known it- and the idea that Qrow had kept holding onto it just because it was his, well-

A surge of want crashed through him, because he did _want things,_ and his entire life did not in fact revolve around his job, and he almost felt like Qrow felt the same thing because it felt like they were getting closer-

"Hey, Branwen!"

Qrow jerked, surprised, and Clover suppressed a jump. Qrow whirled away from him, hands returning to his pockets as he slouched a little, his most common pose, and he looked away from him, cheeks starting to turn red. Clover cleared his throat and tried to compose himself, feeling his racing pulse as they turned and found Brann and Reolin striding down the hall, looking particularly bland and mildly sour respectively.

"Nice work today," Reolin went on, and for the first time in his career Clover truly cursed some of his colleagues out in his head as they all stood there, half of them supremely awkwardly. "There's session training going on tomorrow, thought you and your little rugrats would be there. One of them popped off at me in the cafeteria. Big attitudes get too big sometimes, you know?" He said it like he was lecturing him, and both the other Huntsmen felt a string of annoyance.

"Yeah, whatever, we'll probably be there. Anyway, I got something to do, see you all later." Clearly annoyed, Qrow started off at a fast pace, leaving them standing there and Clover feeling unsatisfied.

"See you two later," he said with a polite nod, then performed a tactical retreat. Even he didn't fancy talking to anyone from Beta team for more than a few minutes at most.

* * *

It occurred to Clover his next step in their little game of chess (though they didn't actually play chess, as it seemed to piss James off a little) was to call Qrow out on something they both knew he had.

The training room was empty, and only the other Ace Ops were in the observation deck up above, so Clover felt free to continue with his little plan as he gave Kingfisher a few practice flexes before their spar started. He glanced over at Qrow, where the man was getting Harbinger out, and let a polite smile onto his face. "So, Qrow," he called. "About my clover pin..."

Qrow paused, having been fiddling with the trigger on his hilt.

"...I'd like it back, if you wouldn't mind."

"...how do you figure I have it?" Qrow asked, in as innocent a voice as that man could muster, quirking an eyebrow at him. But he looked nervous, and it made Clover grin and set a hand on his hip.

"You do have a tendency to take off with shiny things. And as you demonstrated earlier, you have a penchant for green now. Am I wrong?"

Qrow tilted his head back, narrowing his eyes, and Clover could just see the gears clicking away in his head as he thought about the next move to take.

Then, he shrugged, and swung Harbinger in a showy manner, leaving it to rest on his shoulder. "All right, you got me. I admit it, I picked it up a while ago and was...trying to subtly give it back. I had some...bad luck." Clover could practically hear the laughter from his team above. "But if you knew, you could have asked before now, boy scout."

Something in Clover stirred. Qrow usually used _that_ nickname when he was trying to stir up bratty competition on purpose. "I could have, but that would be less fun."

Qrow smirked. "Then it sounds like you're going to have to earn it, pretty boy. I don't give things out for free." That set Clover to feeling like he was boiling, and he swung Kingfisher out to be at the ready, his intent clear.

Qrow tossed his head as he turned and swung Harbinger out, running a hand through his hair. He felt a sense of deja vu to the good old days at Beacon as he let out a cheeky grin. " _Come take it."_

He'd only been being playfully flirty with Winter to bother her into fighting, but right now, he really meant that in a _variety_ of ways.

A fight with them both going full at it was a sight to behold. Qrow hadn't felt this playful in a while, only downtrodden, yet here he was, nearly tearing up the training room as bullets went flying in every direction. Clover's weapon may not have been meant for extreme offense, but it was tricky, swerving this way and that and nearly catching on the hole in Harbinger several times.

Qrow held back- in a sense- for a little while, mostly switching Harbinger between forms so he could glide smoothly in between close and long range combat. Clover was physically stronger than him, so he didn't want to get in too close unless he was sure he could use Harbinger against him (the thing was heavy, all right? He liked using it as a blunt object to bludgeon things with), and he had a gun in the weapon for a reason.

Even so, he gave it his all, until both their Auras were getting low enough the match would be called soon by the system.

When he finally did get an opportunity, he unloaded Harbinger into its full scythe form, using it to shoot himself forward. Clover was retracting Kingfisher, and quickly rerouted it to intercept him, but Qrow had expected him to do it; he swung the weapon in some- frankly- very confusing footwork that was the reason he was still the best scythe user in the Hunter roster. It wound the wire of Clover's weapon around his blade, getting tangled in the components that folded up, and he wrenched it out of the man's grasp with one pull.

The man actually looked surprised, and Qrow took the opportunity to leap forward and knock him on his ass, grinning the whole time. He immediately tried to get up, but Qrow shoved a foot against his chest, knocking him back into the floor. He pointed Harbinger's blade at his throat, still wrapped up in the wire of Kingfisher, but nonetheless still deadly.

"Looks like I win this one, Cloves," he said, nearly bubbling over with the victorious laugh that wanted to burst out of his chest. He supposed it was a little cruel, adding insult to injury, using what Summer had once cheekily called 'the sex voice' (though he _refused_ to call it that; only dumbasses used that phrasing for themselves). "Your luck just ran out, didn't it?"

Clover stared up at him with wide eyes. Qrow leaned forward, putting more weight on his foot (and _why was it so satisfying_ ), watching as his partner's skin started to flush. He took the pin out of his pocket, holding it gingerly between his thumb and index finger.

"This what you wanted? Pretty bad look you can't even take back what's _yours_ , Cloves."

"Oh," Clover wheezed, still looking shocked. "Well."

Then he abruptly reached up with both hands, wrenching Qrow's foot to the side as hard as he could. Qrow yelped as he lost his balance, simultaneously trying to catch himself and not slice into Clover with Harbinger, and fell straight down onto Clover's chest. His threw his head back immediately when the barrel of a handgun Clover had _apparently_ had on his person pressed into his chin. (He hadn't known about that, but to be fair, he kept a knife in his pants too. And _no_ , it wasn't his dick, he'd stashed a literal knife in one of his pant legs for if he got caught in a tight spot.) He still had Harbinger in his hand, and it was still close enough to Clover's neck to theoretically hurt him, so at the very least he'd taken his total loss and turned it into a stalemate.

"Professionals should always have a second plan on hand," Clover told him, a bit breathily, as both of their pulses raced. Qrow was sitting on his chest, and the room suddenly felt like it was set to a hundred degrees.

Qrow's surprise allowed him to pluck the pin out of his hand. Beaming, the operative stared up at him victoriously. "Guess that means I win after all."

Even though there was heat flooding to his face, Qrow couldn't help but smirk. _Clever._ "I guess you do."

The tension was broken when the door to the training room whirled open. Qrow went tense, then turned and immediately shifted off Clover to stand when he saw who was coming in. With an awkward cough, he choked up his grip on Harbinger and started to unwind the wire of Kingfisher. "Anyway. Nice moves, shamrock."

Clover's eyes darted over to the door before he made a move to get up. It was subtle, but he tilted his head, the muscle in his neck tensing, as if to stretch out the tension before he swung himself up and plastered on a fake smile. Qrow could tell them apart pretty easily by now. "Nice to see you, Claire, Reolin. Here to train?"

He sounded as polite as ever, but it was clear it was rude to come in while a match was _technically_ still in progress. Claire looked up from her Scroll, blinked, and opened her mouth before Reolin interrupted her. "You were already done anyway. Biggest room in the place, you know? We need plenty of room to roll out, too."

 _God I fucking hate them,_ Qrow thought, stewing a little, and he let himself have the little bit of childish irritation as he finally got Kingfisher unwound. Coughing to catch his partner's attention, he pulled the weapon in and grabbed hold of it, holding it out to Clover without quite looking at him. "Here you go."

As soon as Clover grabbed it, he made a move to pull away and leave. This was his horrible luck acting up, he just knew it. Before he could, however, Clover caught his arm. "You didn't even ask why I wanted that pin back so bad," the man told him, smiling mischievously. Suddenly, it felt like the other two weren't there again. "I could just get another one, after all."

Feeling a little like a startled chicken, Qrow watched, bug-eyed, as Clover stepped closer and carefully pinned the badge to Qrow's own shoulder on his cape. "I would've given it to you if you asked," Clover said, sounding absolutely tickled as Qrow flushed. "But if you're going to have it, you may as well wear it out in the open."

"That seems a little creepy if you ask me," Reolin muttered to his teammate several paces away, but Qrow didn't hear him.

"Uh...thanks," he muttered, averting his eyes. Clover felt a rush of warmth, as he recognized that soft, hesitant look from when they'd played cards in the back of their transport, and he clapped him on the shoulder.

"Maybe it'll be a good luck charm."

Qrow chuckled under his breath. "Don't I already have one of those?" he asked, softly, quietly, not looking at him. Clover stared at him, too caught up in the moment to even retort.

The door clicked open again. Brann and Russet strolled through, and Qrow looked up, coughing into his fist again. "Anyway...catch you later, shamrock. I promised Ruby and Yang a game tonight."

He took that as his excuse to leave, and he would've invited Clover along (to give him an excuse to run away from Beta team, too), but he though he needed a little break after... _that_ exchange. It was a little bit like the brief, happy highs he'd gotten from being drunk.

Except all the misery that followed there wasn't present here.

* * *

" _AHHHHH_ ," Elm yelled, banging her fists on the glass as she stood with her nose pressed up against it. They had all been watching the match with rapt attention- though it had gotten a little awkward, even for Clover-and-Qrow levels of flirting, when the other Huntsman had practically (literally) been straddling him, and Marrow had muttered a "I feel like I'm watching something I'm not supposed to"- and now with rapt annoyance. "They were so close!"

"I know," Harriet said, twitching, her hands sparking while she flexed them as if she wanted to hit something. "Fucking Beta team."

" _So close!_ Don't you think?!" Elm turned and grabbed Marrow, who'd just been sitting on the floor wilting into the table, and he groaned, lackluster, as she shook him. "That was definitely a _moment_."

"I'm starting to think we should 'help' Clover along a little."

"I don't think that would be wise," Vine said, trying his best to look composed and professional where he stood at the end of the sofa even though something about his expression was clearly disdainful; just not towards them. "Unprofessional."

"Well _that_ definitely wasn't professional, and if they don't get it over with, I'm going to pull my hair out. Even _you_ have to hate it at this point, Vine."

The man pressed his lips together and said nothing, which meant Harriet was right, and she snorted victoriously, even if she couldn't find the energy to smile along with it. "I'm going to tell him to just fuck already."

That was where Vine would usually say _No, Harriet, you shouldn't,_ but he just stared dully down at the members of Beta team as they started their spars. Elm let go of Marrow and let him drop onto the floor, where he groaned again. Mostly from the impact. "How? Can I help?!" the woman asked excitedly.

Harriet looked up at her and smirked. "Sure. And I doubt these two will be of much help-" Marrow let out a weak 'Hey!' "-but I know a couple of little Huntresses who would be."

"Oh! Oh! Let me guess! Let me guess! I know who it is! I know! It's his nieces, isn't it?"

"You're as much of a genius as ever, Elm."

"I know," the woman said, planting her fists on her hips and grinning into the distance of the training room beyond. "And I have a great idea!"

"What's that?"

"We lock them in a closet."

"...I think that would just piss them off, and you've been reading too many bad self-published novels off ScrollRead. Let's just go and get some dinner before Beta team starts getting more annoying."


	9. choppy game

Their mission assignment far surpassed Qrow's bad luck. He couldn't even blame himself for this. It was the worst luck in the universe, bar none. Maybe Clover's _good_ luck was somehow amplifying his _bad_ luck (which was...an interesting idea) and wreaking havoc on everyone else, which wasn't worth much, because it made Qrow suffer too.

Due to various Hunters being out on missions, their team for this one was...odd. He, Clover, Ruby, Harriet and Elm, and Brann and Reolin.

It would've been fine if the last two weren't there.

Harriet had been grumbling the entire time. Qrow kept silent, but he wanted to do the same. Both the Beta members just radiated a certain cockiness that made him want to wrinkle his nose. Ruby sat between him and Clover on their transport, in a peppy mood and swinging her legs back and forth, and he caught the two giving her the occasional disdainful look. He'd held back for now, but he swore to the _Brothers_ if they said anything to his niece...

When they finally arrived at the mine they were inspecting, after what felt like ten years, Clover split them into two groups to cover two paths. Harriet and Elm unfortunately got stuck with the lesser of them, which Qrow felt bad for, but he wasn't going to complain even a little about only having Clover and his niece along. It made sense; Ruby tagged along with the two most skilled, as they didn't need Harriet or Elm's help and she was still a seventeen-year-old, and Harriet and Elm went with the...least productive.

Clover was walking ahead of them, but Qrow could have sworn he caught the hint of a smile on the man's face as Ruby bounced along at his own side and yapped about- er, something. Qrow had kind of tuned out looking at the other man. It was easy enough to tune back in, though- usually- and he caught the tail end of an interesting sentence.

"And then Yang threw me when we were practicing! But it went really well, I swear! Hey, Uncle Qrow, when we get back to Atlas can we go try that restaurant Weiss likes? She keeps mentioning it, it's so cruel, it makes me _soooo_ hungry-"

Something clattered in the tunnel ahead. Ruby may have been chatty, but she wasn't dumb, and Crescent Rose was out in almost less time than he had Harbinger out. "Sure, kiddo," he replied. "But first, let's try not to get ourselves any concussions."

Frankly, fighting with Clover and Ruby made him feel a tangled up variety of emotions that he'd felt when he first heard _'Uncle Clover.'_ Because Clover was so versatile, he complimented them both perfectly, and he used Kingfisher to lead the Grimm that came up to greet them in weaving paths that made it easier for Ruby and him to shoot in fast and slice them up. Qrow turned, at one point, and saw a beowolf rearing up behind his niece, but the hook of Kingfisher wrapped around its throat and cut its head off before it could do anything.

A shot went off right past his ear. Whirling around, Qrow found it had obliterated a griffon's head, and he took the initiative to cut through the rest of its body in an arc big enough to catch a few boarbatusks in a line beside it.

It didn't take long for everything to get cleared up. He stowed Harbinger away and circled back around to where they'd come in, and Ruby fell into step to trot alongside him. Clover was putting Kingfisher away when Qrow walked up, but he took note of a stream of blood coming off the man's arm and frowned. When had he gotten cut?

"What's up with that, Clove?"

"Hmm?" The man looked up and raised an eyebrow at him, then glanced at his arm and went 'ah.' "It's shallow. One of them managed to surprise me and get a graze in while I was shooting a griffon."

His words rolled around in Qrow's head for a moment before it clicked and he scowled, marching a few steps closer. "You know I can watch my own back, boy scout. Don't go getting distracted and getting hurt because of me."

Clover gave him a chastised smile. "It wasn't on purpose, Qrow. I couldn't help it."

"Yeah, you can, very easily, it's called not being an idiot."

"Well, that's harsh."

Qrow looked down at his still-bleeding arm and scowled even further. He reached for his cape, which was already tattered anyway, and tore off a strip before grabbing the other man's arm with enough force to make him jump and wrapping it around the wound. As he tied it off, he looked up and gave Clover an even more chastising look. "Be more careful."

"Of course, Qrow," Clover told him, for once sounding sheepish in his life, then they were both distracted by the sound of giggling. Qrow glanced to the side and remembered Ruby was there, standing there with her hands folded, smiling like she'd won the lottery but not saying anything. They both flushed in embarrassment.

"Let's go, lucky charm," he drawled gruffly, letting go of the other Huntsman and going for the other end of the tunnel. Clover followed him, rubbing his neck, and Ruby practically skipped along behind them.

* * *

Meeting up with 'Beta team' (which was so funny it had to have been on purpose, that the members of Beta were still on a Beta team even while out on missions with members of Alpha) was boring and vaguely unpleasant. Elm was _frowning,_ and that giant woman never frowned. Still, at least the mission was probably nearly over, because all they'd found was more and more Grimm in the main part of the mine and no Dust deposits like they'd speculated. It ended in a large room of sorts with stalactites hanging from the ceiling, where a nest of small griffons were making their home.

"Just great," Qrow muttered, because of course going in woke them all up. But the room was rather big, and would allow him to test an idea...

He edged closer to Clover, lowering his voice so only the other man could hear. "Hey, Clover. Could you try something for me?"

Clover moved his head so he could see him better, leaning in. "What is it?"

"You know how you focus your Semblance on things? Could you..." Qrow hesitated to say it, but plowed through before he lost the courage. "Could you try it on me?"

Clover's eyebrow shot up. Despite his look of surprise, he reached over and flicked the badge on Qrow's shoulder. "Done."

A tingle went through him. Feeling a bit excited, Qrow quickly darted off from the main group to the other end of the room so he could fight with enough space to himself.

The first griffon that let out a roar and ran at him tripped and fell flat on its face. Qrow cut through it, keeping the sensation of Ruby and Clover behind him in his mind, and let out a breath. It was almost comical how the griffon running at him started to go down. He swung Harbinger to slice through one's midsection, and it caught on a third's head that had been incoming; he threw it, bringing Harbinger closer and unloading with the double barrels, and the bullets caught three griffons at once. They stumbled and ran into each other, causing a pileup for the two behind. He switched back to his sword and took a running leap, twirling it and cutting off several heads at once while catching stray legs and tails.

He simply _ducked_ under one and it went flying into one of its brethren. They slammed into each other and fell to the ground, where another one promptly tripped over them. Qrow grinned as he turned around.

Kingfisher's hook sailed into a griffon's head that Qrow had cut into and yanked it clean off the Grimm's body. The man landed on a ledge above him, then smiled down at him with something like... _pride_ , something that looked so satisfied for him, that it sent a quiver of warmth through him.

"Nice job, Qrow," the man called down. "I told you we make a perfect team."

He winked before swinging off to another part of the room to be closer to Ruby. Qrow grinned to himself, basking in the feeling of actually _enjoying_ a fight where his Semblance seemed to be working for him for once.

A louder cry than the rest shook the air. Pausing, Qrow turned and glanced at the nest, where a larger griffon was crawling out from the hole. It set its eyes on him and screeched again, claws digging into the ground as it pulled itself completely free and started to come at him.

That was when Reolin landed nearby with his staff at the ready. "Hey, pal!" Qrow yelled, inwardly cursing. Couldn't he have a string of good luck for once? "Get off my side of the field, my Semblance is active!"

"Oh, please, Ebi was just over here," the man shot back, not taking him seriously at all. Qrow caught the shortest glance of Ruby whirling around and her eyes going wide with worry. "Just shoot the damn thing!"

"Seriously, _move_!" Qrow shouted, but it was too late. The griffon screamed and swung its wing, slamming into the side of the cavern, and its feathers were let loose like it was a canon. The impact shook the ceiling, making it even weaker, and the feathers collided with the stalactites overhead.

A rain of heavy rock came barreling downward. Reolin didn't see it, but he was standing right under one big enough to crack his head open. Swearing under his breath, Qrow took off running and put Harbinger away, going in for a dive and crashing into the man before his shitty luck could kill him.

The impact of a large portion of the ceiling colliding with the ground caused enough noise that Qrow almost couldn't hear his niece cry out for him. There was a sharp, stinging pain in his leg, but he hardly noticed as they went slamming into the floor. He rolled and hit the wall, while Reolin went tumbling somewhere off to his right.

" _DADDY!_ "

There was a ringing in his head. As if they were in the distance, Qrow heard Elm let out a thunderous scream and then a clap that was almost louder than the miniature avalanche had been. A bright flash of light left him feeling even more like he'd just put his head into a blender.

The giant griffon screamed as a burst of red appeared on top of the pile of rocks separating them from the rest, and Ruby popped into place, perched on a boulder as she looked for him. When she caught sight of him, she rushed down with Crescent Rose already put away and let out a worried cry. "Uncle Qrow! Are you okay?"

She completely ignored Reolin, who was coughing as he sat up, as she crouched beside him. Brann came over the rocks next.

Wheezing, Qrow wrenched himself up and winced as he felt his ribs. Nothing broken there, but it sure hurt like hell. The stinging in his leg was still aching. He tried his best to reign in his Semblance, focused on that before anything else, and took a moment before he opened his eyes. "It's fine, petal, I just got a good throw. See?"

The members of the Ace Ops started to scramble over the rock pile. Brann walked over to him and raised an eyebrow at the smaller feather that had impaled his leg. "Best remove that. Griffons aren't poisonous, but if it stays in too long it won't be good."

"As if I don't know that," Qrow muttered sourly, reaching down and plucking the feather out, wincing as he did. "Fuck."

"That's a dollar in the swear jar," Ruby sounded off out of habit, holding his shoulder.

"You won't be able to walk like this. Here, Reolin, just carry him back to the transport."

Qrow twitched as the Beta member walked over to them. "I'm good," he drawled, trying not to let just how much he thought of that idea show on his face.

"Yeah, like you can walk now," Reolin snorted, moving closer.

Ruby turned and gave him a firm look. "He said he's fine," she repeated, picking up on Qrow's discomfort without even needing to ask.

"And he's _clearly not_ , so let me carry him," the older Huntsman snapped, giving her a shoulder a shove. She was already crouching down, so she only rocked back a few inches, but Qrow's blood boiled. It didn't matter if all Ruby did was get her _skirt_ dirty from the ground, the man had just gone too far.

Reolin yelped loudly when a bullet went flying past his ear. He stumbled back, startled, and Brann went tense, grabbing the hilt of her sword. Qrow had grabbed Crescent Rose from the ground and was aiming it at him, a scowl set deep into his face. "You ever fucking touch my girl like that again, I'll aim at your ballsack. And I _don't_ miss."

"Branwen," Brann snapped, voice rising. "What the fuck-"

" _Enough!"_

Qrow himself even jumped when he heard Clover yell. He'd never heard the man so much as raise his voice, unless it was to call out to someone in a battle. Beside him, Ruby jumped too, more startled than when Reolin had shoved her. Clover was striding towards them, face set into a frown, and Brann backed away instinctively.

"Right now, we should focus on leaving the cave system with all of us intact," he said, a sternness to his voice that made them all go quiet. "Brann, Reolin, await orders instead of acting on your own. And Reolin, that was highly unprofessional."

The other Huntsman's ears tinted red, but he said nothing as Clover knelt down on Qrow's other side. Then he unwrapped the brighter red cloth around his bicep and lifted Qrow's shin, wrapping it around the wound and tying it off. Well, this was a weird sort of irony.

"We trading now?" Qrow mumbled, wishing the others weren't close enough to hear.

Clover gave him a brief smile. "Apparently." Then he looked at Ruby, expression going more gentle. "I apologize, Miss Rose. My colleague was out of line."

"Oh, it's fine!" the girl predictably bubbled, beaming after getting over her surprise. "And I said you could call me Ruby!"

"Right, Ruby. You can take ahead of me, all right? Elm, you lag behind, and Harriet, you're at the front. Brann and Reolin, stay in between me and Elm."

Qrow chanced a glance at Elm and Harriet. Harriet was twitching, somehow looking more annoyed than when Marrow stole her sodas she'd already bought from the vending machine; Elm for once looked unhappy, holding onto her hammer with an iron grip and frowning. At least it was aimed at Beta. The woman was a giant Nora, Qrow didn't want to be on her bad side.

"Here, Qrow," Clover said, taking his arm and looping it around his own neck, startling him.

He picked Qrow up from the ground like he weighed nothing (which probably felt true, him and his damned arms). Qrow couldn't even find the energy to feel embarrassed, because he was _endlessly_ more comfortable with Clover touching him than any of the irritating little shits from Beta. He wrapped both arms around the man's neck and let his head rest against them partly because he was fucking tired and partly to prove his point and be annoying. Ruby gave them another beaming smile before picking up Crescent Rose and turning to follow Harriet out of the mine.

Not having to walk was quite nice, actually. He should get injured more often.

* * *

"Hey, flower power, what was that back there?"

"Huh?" Ruby looked up and over at Elm where she sat on the transport, looking confused. Harriet sat beside the other woman, both of them on the opposite end of where the Beta members sat, also looking curious. "What was what?"

"When Qrow _valiantly_ decided to save Reolin after he ignored his _clear_ warning," Harriet drawled, making the staff-wielding man in question scowl, "you popped off with that weird eye thing. It vaporized everything in there."

Qrow glanced up and caught Clover looking interested. It occurred to him then that the Ace Ops had never seen Ruby's eyes in action.

"Oh, that," Ruby replied, looking a little sheepish. "Well, it's hard to explain, but...it's a sort of...power, I guess? That people with silver eyes have. It lets me do stuff like that- sometimes they get...vaporized, like you said, but sometimes they turn to stone too."

"Whoa, whoa whoa, hold on, did _you_ put that giant statue on Beacon Academy?" Elm exclaimed, eyes widening. Ruby cringed.

"Yeah. I...I did that when I saw one of my friends die on the tower," the girl admitted, looking sad. For a moment, Qrow saw Harriet's expression go soft. It was an unfamiliar look that was quickly veiled. "I can't really control it fully yet, but Miss Calavera- the Grimm Reaper, that is- she was a silver-eyed warrior too. She told me that she thinks it comes from the God of Light. I don't know why, but it can destroy the Grimm. That's why...that's why Salem sent people after her when she was young, and they cut her eyes."

Elm cringed, as if she was imagining it vividly.

Harriet looked oddly interested. "So how are you supposed to learn to control it, then? Keep on with the trials by fire?"

"Well, Miss Calavera tried to help me, but since she doesn't have hers anymore, she can't really teach me. And the only other person I've ever known with silver eyes was...my mother, so..."

Ruby trailed off, eyes turning to the floor.

"If you've got a power like that, I don't see why you're out in the field," Brann said, a frown etched into her face. "It's a weapon. You should be honing that in a controlled environment, so we can use it-"

Clover interrupted her. "Enough, Brann. Your insight is not needed on the topic." The woman's mouth clicked shut, and she and Reolin just looked more sullen as they sat in their corner of the ship. Clover turned to Ruby and set a hand on her shoulder, face softening. "For what it's worth, I think you're doing well as you are now. It seems something like that would work like a Semblance, and only acceptance will let it come. You can't force it."

Qrow melted into an inward puddle as Ruby looked up with a smile. He'd successfully brought her mood back up, and the lingering heartache from being reminded of her mother was gone, at least for the moment. "Thanks! I promise I'll keep trying..."

The transport was quiet on their way home after the conversation. Qrow felt his niece looking for his hand, though she wasn't looking at him, and let her hold it with a tiny smile as he let his head rest on the metal wall behind him. He closed his eyes and pretended that he was napping and couldn't hear Elm cooing out "Oh, that's so cute!"


	10. combination ticket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> takes place after ch7 of what father means !

After Qrow's little display in the training room, acting like a peacock displaying its feathers, he felt Clover's eyes on him whenever they were within range of each other. He could pinpoint the feeling now, and he did the exact same thing, watching the man whenever he got the chance. Seeing as the Ace Ops and team RWBY were the only ones with intact Auras after training, they were still sent out on missions after a small period to recuperate, so Qrow only got passing glances at the other man in the halls. It felt a little weird to not be going with him, but Winter wanted him, Blake and Vine on a stealth operation, and Clover elsewhere.

It wasn't until the next morning when he walked into the Ace Ops kitchen he saw the man in earnest again. He was gesturing with his hand as he spoke, while Elm and Marrow snickered at him, and Harriet sat on the table smirking, and Qrow paused, raising an eyebrow; it wasn't often he saw them needle their leader.

"I swear I'm not crazy," he was saying, sounding insistent. "I've seen it in the base at least three times!"

"Clover, I hate to say it, but you were probably just tired," Harriet told him, looking tickled. "Everyone sees things sometimes."

"I was not _hallucinating,_ Harriet," Clover replied with a put-upon sigh.

"Seen what?" Qrow asked, strolling over and leaning his hip against the table. Clover turned and stared at him for a brief moment, eyes veiled.

"Clover thinks he keeps seeing a crow in the halls," Marrow laughed, making Qrow freeze.

A flush came to Clover's face. Apparently being made fun of was enough to distract him from Qrow's sudden uneasiness, which was a boon. "I saw it in the kitchen once! Then in one of the gardens, then on a window ledge-"

"Riiiiight," Elm interrupted him, sounding like she was holding back laughter.

"It is not as unbelievable as you're all making it out to be. A bird could have gotten into base-"

"This high up? And I've never even seen a crow in Atlas. Don't they usually migrate when it gets cold or something like that?"

Clover let out a small huff. It was almost cute, seeing him frustrated for once at something so silly and trivial. "Do you all honestly think I would see something multiple times and it be the same hallucination every time?"

"You never know," Qrow said with a shrug, looking away to hide his smirk. "Crows are a sign of bad luck. It could be an omen."

That set the other Ace Ops to laughing again. Clover set a hand over his eyes, and Qrow decided to show a little mercy and come back later. It was hardly the time to try and take a chance with everyone else around anyway.

* * *

That didn't mean he could resist fucking with the man.

Clover did in fact take breaks sometimes, and he sat on a bench in one of the indoor gardens with a water bottle after a sparring match with Elm. Qrow watched him from a tree, feeling a little hesitant to interrupt seeing as the man was just staring off into space and had started to smile to himself, but he pushed off his branch before he chickened out and flapped down to the ground.

He let out a squawk as he landed on the bench and sat there staring up at him. Clover startled, then looked at him with wide eyes. "So you _are_ real," he said, sounding a little appreciative, then pulled something out of his pocket. He unraveled what looked like a protein bar and broke a few small chunks off, holding it out in his hand. Qrow took a few hops forward to nibble at them. "How on earth did you get stuck in here? An open hangar?"

Qrow squawked and finished off the food he'd offered him, flapping his wings at the suggestion he'd ever get stuck anywhere. Clover chuckled, smiling like he understood, and leaned down to look at him better. "Well, thank you for confirming my sanity. You're still quite pretty, you know?" He reached out and brushed his thumb over the feathers of Qrow's neck, and he let out a shudder at the odd sensation. It was rare that anyone touched him as a bird. "Who's a pretty bird? You are!"

Clover stroked the top of his head, and Qrow realized with a certain mortification (and hilarity, underneath, because he could make fun of this later) that the man was talking to him like anyone else would a puppy, and he leapt off the bench with a fluffy of awkward screeches and flew away as fast as he could. He left the man sitting there looking confused, but he didn't feel guilty about it at all.

* * *

Qrow sat wheezing with his face in his hands in a random hallway, wondering if throwing himself off of Atlas was an option, afraid to look up and let anyone see his cherry-red face. Heavy footsteps came down the hall at him, and he barely found the strength of mind to try and figure out who it was.

"Qrow?" James asked, sounding concerned. "Are you all right?"

"Fine, Jimmy!" Qrow shouted into his hands, much too enthusiastically. "Perfectly fine! Everything is fucking _great_!" All right, so he sounded mildly hysterical.

He wrenched himself up from the floor and scrambled to leave, ramming into the doorway as he did. " _Fuck!_ "

Then he said 'fuck it,' turned into a crow, and flew away, squawking the entire time. It was easier than screaming as a human man.

* * *

He saw the Ace Ops at their table at lunch, and tried to duck away before they saw him, but of course Elm did, because Elm noticed everyone.

"Qrow!" she yelled, waving him over. "Come on over!"

Swearing inwardly, he tried to adopt his usual casual pose as he strolled over, sitting down in the only empty seat. Right beside Clover. Because none of them ever sat there now that he was around. "Hey."

Vine looked across the table at him with a neutral expression. Even still, his eyes were more inquisitive than usual. "Good afternoon, Qrow. Are you feeling well?"

"Huh? Uh, yeah..."

"You sure?" Elm grinned down at him with her usual cheer, but there was a curious edge to it. "Absolutely-lutely sure?"

"Uh...yes."

Maybe they'd noticed that he had been absent from the entire city and base for a solid five hours.

"General Ironwood said you seemed a bit...off," Clover told him with a raised eyebrow, eyes raking up and down Qrow's body, searching for anything that was wrong, and Qrow felt his neck start to heat up again. Bedroom eyes may have made him feel hot and heavy, but feeling so- _worried for?_ \- made him feel a sense of...something, something wanting. It felt like something Summer had described when they'd been playing cards after Taiyang had bandaged her arm for her once. That was back in Beacon, when she had a crush on him she wouldn't tell him about because he was obviously smitten with Raven.

And of course James had told the Ace Ops to look out for him, because he was an asshole like that.

"Oh, I just took some...self-reflection time," Qrow began.

Elm immediately spoke over him. "Ruby said that's code for when you sulk."

"Yang said that's code for when you sit in a tree by yourself refusing to talk to anyone," Harriet continued.

Vine's eyebrows raised. "Ren informed me that was code for when you isolated yourself so no one could see you having feelings."

Qrow's eyebrow started twitching. Sensing his irritation, Clover patted him gently on the shoulder. "Besides all that, we were just a little worried."

"It's fine," Qrow insisted, feeling self-conscious. "I just an...awkward...run-in...with someone."

Yeah, that really described it.

A crease formed in Clover's brow. "Was it someone from fucking Beta?" Harriet growled, slamming her fist into the table. "It was Reolin, wasn't it? Or Russet?"

"What? No!" Qrow held up his hands. "It's fine!"

Elm slammed _both_ her fists into the table, making their lunch trays jump. "Come on, I can give them a talk! Which one was it?"

"It was none of them, _seriously_. I just needed some-"

"Self-reflection time?" Vine posed.

Qrow scowled. "Time to myself," he said pointedly, feeling the heat coming up his neck. "Seriously."

They watched him carefully, like they didn't believe him. "Well, all right," Elm said, easing back into her seat. "But if anyone from Beta says anything to you I will hit them with Timber for you!"

Qrow slapped a hand over his eyes. "You're all worse than Tai," he mumbled.

Immediately, he took note of the spike in interest in the aura at the table. Dreading it, he glanced up and was almost relieved to find they'd dropped their previous topic and only looked mildly curious now. "Who's Tai?" Harriet asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Right. Taiyang Xiao Long, Yang and Ruby's father."

Eyebrows shot up all across the table. For some reason, Clover averted his eyes for a moment, flushing lightly.

"So he's like your...brother-in-law?" Harriet asked, like a vulture, eyes flicking between him and their leader.

"Sort of," Qrow replied. "He was with my sister first, Yang's mother. But she left shortly after Yang was born and he married Summer Rose, Ruby's mother. So she and I technically aren't related, but-"

"But she's still like your mini-me."

"That's so interesting!" Elm exclaimed, slamming her hands into the table again. It nearly knocked over Vine's juice box, which he'd been reduced to after the cafeteria had run out of glasses, and he steadied it with a sigh. "I could have sworn you two were related!"

Qrow couldn't help but chuckle. He took out his Scroll and swiped until he found an album he rarely opened. He pulled up an old picture he still had and turned the Scroll around, letting them take a look at it. It was one he'd taken of Summer, a few months after Ruby had been born, as she sat on the bench outside their house. She had been looking into the forest, but had looked over her shoulder when he'd said 'Say cheese, flower petal,' and smiled for the camera, her cape flowing in an almost nonexistent wind. The afternoon light almost formed a halo around her hair.

"That's her. Ruby takes after her more than me."

Harriet blinked at the image. "Oh, wow. She...looks like her mom."

They all stared for a minute. Summer had always had that effect, just a little mesmerizing. It was why Qrow had become so attached to her. She'd become his best friend, closer to him than even Raven when they were in school.

"Even Ozpin never knew what happened to her?" Vine asked, voice soft and quiet, and Qrow sighed.

"No one did."

He flicked his Scroll off. The mood was a little more somber than before. Clover's hand strayed to sit on his knee, quietly comforting him, and Qrow stared at the table, feeling a thrum of nostalgia. Summer would have told him he was wasting his time away. To take his chance already. "Be happy, stupidhead."

The fact Clover could make him feel better at all, let alone with just a touch, was a sight. He understood him- he wanted him. He was Summer all over again, just in a different way.

"But anyway, that's enough of the past," he said, waving it off. "You're the one who called me over here, Elm. Tell me about _your_ team from the academy."

Elm's eyes lit up. The rest of the team groaned, as one, and Qrow grinned, just knowing he'd set off a metaphorical bomb. They'd probably be sitting there for an hour now.

* * *

He came up to Clover in the hall. "Hey, Cloves-"

"We have a mission," Russet grit out, cutting through. "Come on, Ebi."

Clover reached out for his wrist to catch it on a walkway in one of the larger gardens as he came up from behind. "Qrow, a moment-"

"Hey, Clover, we need you in the mission room," Marrow called out, which made the man sigh. Qrow whistled and gave him a mock salute before leaving.

He tried entering the kitchen at one point, but Marrow _and_ Harriet were there, which was the worst combination for this conversation, so he ducked out.

He and Clover got sent out together, which was great, because they _always_ went off on their own, then Winter had them split into two squads and Qrow got stuck with a mixture of Alpha, Beta, and JNR. He let out a sigh.

At one point the roof of the cave overhead cracked. Everyone else lunged to duck out of the way, but Qrow just stood there, unimpressed by any inconvenience the world could offer him at the moment, feeling like it was probably someone coming crashing through a weak spot. Predictably it was, as he let out a grunt of exertion and dug a heel into the ground to steady himself when Clover came clattering down into his arms, Kingfisher wrapped around something off into the smoke.

The man grinned at him, a little sheepish. "Lucky catch, huh?"

Qrow smirked at him. "I'd chalk this one up to talent."

"There's Grimm," Russet shouted at them, as if they somehow didn't know, and Qrow let go of Clover's legs so the man could stand up- an easy task, since he was a little taller than him- and wondered if making a hit list was illegal.

He was really trying to do this thing the organic way, but now, of all times, they kept getting interrupted. Clover may have had good luck, but Qrow definitely had shitty luck, and it was sure showing right now.

"Qrow," Clover called up to him from the ramp below, sounding bothered, which he always sounded like when he asked- "Can you please not do that?"

Qrow didn't look down from where he was perched on a random flag pole, high up in the air, dangerously high even for a Huntsman trained to jump out of a plane. "No."

His hearing was a little better than the average person's, and he heard Clover let out a defeated sigh. Marrow snickered as the Ace Ops made their way inside and Elm let out a questioning hum.

"He gets cranky when it's cold and he hasn't eaten," Clover explained, like he was a cat or something, and it made Qrow twitch.

So what if the wind was ice cold up here? Now he was going to stay up there even _longer_ , just out of spite.

* * *

Qrow's teeth were chattering. He'd been spending a lot of time outside the past two days, because now that he actually wanted to talk to Clover _alone_ there always seemed to be a crowd around impeding them, and it was mildly frustrating. He liked being outside, able to stretch his wings, able to feel like he had the freedom to just go wherever he wanted, without any worries. It was so cold in Atlas, though, that he missed being able to just take a fly around the area.

Apparently he looked like he was in a bad mood, or the Grimm Reaper, maybe, since his hood was up, because random personnel darted out of his way as he walked down the hall. Okay, so that was a little funny. He wasn't even hunched over, like he usually did when he was annoyed, he was just scowling.

He was almost to the recreational area of the base when something snatched his arm and yanked him, hard enough to pull him off his feet. Qrow yelped and stumbled, hands going for Harbinger out of instinct, as he was dragged into a dark space and a door was quickly shoved shut. Hands settled on his, keeping him from taking out a giant lethal weapon too large for the supply closet they were in, and Clover's amused green eyes sparkled into his.

"Looks like I got a lucky catch," he said, with a cheesy grin that set Qrow's heart to fluttering, even as he huffed and pretended to be annoyed.

"What the hell, shamrock?"

Clover's hands drifted and, without much warning, undid the belt that held his weapon; he tossed it to the floor, making Qrow jump. "I needed to talk to you," he said, then clarified, "alone."

"Uh." Qrow stared at him a bit bug-eyed. "Oka-"

Clover set a hand on his shoulder and pushed him backwards. Qrow's back hit the wall, and he sucked in a breath as Clover leaned close enough to almost touch him, keeping his hand where it was. The man's eyes were dark and focused, pupils dilated from being in the dark.

"I think it's time we talked about what we haven't been talking about."

Not breaking eye contact, Clover let his hand drift down. Qrow withheld a shudder when it touched the bare skin of his abdomen. The other Huntsman let his fingers stop on his piercing, thumbing the clover there with a slow surety. "Don't think I haven't been frustrated with not being able to get you alone these past few days either."

A lump formed in Qrow's throat. He was that transparent, huh? Well, he couldn't be blamed. Not when it came to someone like Clover.

"Especially after the show you put on," Clover told him. "I have been. _Frustrated._ "

Qrow swallowed visibly. Clover's eyes strayed down the man's throat. Their regular flirting was one thing, but when he'd come in so casually and so obviously goaded him the other day, with that clover embedded into him, he'd had to exercise every bit of self-control he had not to let the warmth in his gut spread to his whole body. He knew how to control himself; Qrow just made it _difficult_. And seeing him be so cocky, and _gloat_ so much, with his cheeky little _talk dirty to me,_ it made him want to put his hands on the other man more than anything.

He was really in deep. There was no use dancing around it, at this point, and Clover wanted things. He definitely knew what he wanted here.

Qrow breathed out deeply. "And why would you want to get me alone, Cloves?" he asked, his eyes that already knew the answer boring into his. It really was the last straw. The nicknames, the teasing, the concern; it was downright doting.

A noise from outside startled him. The last few days had made Qrow a little jumpy, especially with the cold, and he glanced at the door. He jerked in surprise when he felt Clover's hand catch his chin and yank him back around. A moment later there were lips plastered over his, and his eyes went wide with surprise.

His body reacted for him. He reached up to brush one hand up into Clover's hair and grab onto the man's vest with the other, a moan escaping his throat as he opened his mouth and let his tongue do his talking for him.

_Fuck it._

Weeks of tension came to a head and broke, leaving them desperately grasping at each other in the dark like a pair of horny amateurs. And kissing in a supply closet definitely wasn't ideal, but Qrow would take it if it meant it happened. Clover's mouth drifted to his ears and neck and he pressed his palm flat into Qrow's navel, and he reacted with a delicious groan when Qrow bit into his right earlobe. He reached up to grasp the man's face and claim his mouth again, feeling like he was running on pure euphoria, and gasped for breath when he finally pulled away. It had been a long time since someone left him _feeling_ breathless, in more ways than just needing to breathe.

"I want you," Clover rasped out, eyes half-lidded in the darkness. "All of you, all of it. Wherever you go after all of this, I'll follow you."

Qrow's voice caught in his throat. "That's a big promise," he whispered, afraid the man was just saying it in the heat of the moment, on an impulse, but the intensity in Clover's eyes wrote a different story.

"You were right before." Qrow stared at him, and Clover let out another ragged breath. "That day in the truck. I've never wanted anything bad enough to do anything but what everyone else expected me to do. I may have done it all willingly, I may have wanted to do it, but I've never wanted anything..." He dragged his hand away from Qrow's shoulder to brush his bangs out of his face, breathing out. The Huntsman's hair fell into sections, almost like feathers, he thought. "...like I want you."

Qrow gulped down his indecision. His voice was even quieter than before. "You better know what you're getting into, then."

"I do."

"You better not die on me."

"I have no plans on dying. I want every moment there is with you," Clover told him, and the raw honesty in his eyes almost made Qrow's breath hitch. "But in exchange, you have to promise me too."

His voice had gone raspy. "What?"

"If something does happen- you don't blame yourself. People all over this world lose each other, every day, and if something does happen, and I go out before you- which will not be happening, if I have a say in it- you do not shut down. Survive like you have, take care of those kids, and wait until you meet me again."

Something stung in Qrow's eyes. The possibility of Clover dying had occurred to him. It hadn't even been something he wanted to think about.

"All right," he rasped. "Promise."

Clover leaned his forehead against his. His expression was soft, fond, and something Summer had told him a long time ago rang in his head. _You'll find the right person someday. I can feel it._

_You were right, flower petal._

Then something occurred to him.

"Um," he squawked, jerking his hand up to slap it over Clover's mouth and keep him from kissing him again. Clover blinked at him, looking confused. "There's something I should, uh...tell you."

Clover raised an eyebrow. Qrow averted his eyes.

"Uh...follow me."

He grabbed the man's arm and extricated himself, moving towards the door. This was bound to go well.

* * *

"Okay," Qrow said, balancing on the railing of the balcony he'd found. "Don't freak out."

Clover frowned at him. He was standing a few feet away, like Qrow had instructed, but he looked mildly anxious. "What're you going to do?"

"Like I said," Qrow repeated, giving him a pointed stare. "Just. Don't freak out."

Then he lurched himself backwards straight off the railing.

" _Qrow!_ " He heard Clover yell, then the whir of Kingfisher coming over the railing that would have wrapped around his leg if he hadn't turned into a crow. He caught himself and flapped back up to sit on the railing, making Clover startle. The man was standing at the edge now, one hand on the railing and one hand on his weapon, and stared at him wide-eyed.

Then Qrow, as himself, was perched there again.

"Surprise," he said, with fake, dull enthusiasm, spreading his hands.

Clover stared at him.

"Ozpin gave me and my sister a little bit of magic," Qrow explained, when the man just gaped and said nothing. A moment more passed. "I can turn into a crow."

The sound of Kingfisher slowly retracting was the only sound on the balcony besides the wind.

"Then..." Clover frowned, the gears turning in his head. "That means..." He slowly started to turn red, Kingfisher wilting uselessly as he held onto it with a weak grip. "You're the..."

"Crow you've been seeing around? ...yeah."

They sat there in silence for a minute more.

Abruptly, Clover dropped his weapon and put his face into his hands, flushing a deep red. "Oh my god," he mumbled. "I'm so sorry."

Qrow bit his lip to avoid laughing. It was probably inappropriate, in this situation. "Sorry I didn't, uh, mention it sooner. It's usually a bit...unbelievable."

"You could say that again!"

Qrow snickered to himself, unable to resist ribbing the operative just a little more. "I could demonstrate again, if you like," he offered, opening his arms and leaning back just an inch. Clover's head snapped up, and he reached out with the speed of a jaguar, wrapping an arm around Qrow's midsection and hauling him off the railing.

"I don't care if you can fly, no."

"But it's really fun, I swear-"

"Absolutely not."

"You're no fun, Clove-" Qrow said with a wheedling grin, before the man shut him up by kissing him again. There were probably cameras out here, but he didn't care, pushing until the other man was backed into the wall and fisting both hands in his hair again.

It was all or nothing now. Qrow had terrible luck, but he would, just once, go all in on this gamble.


	11. true odds

Clover's hand had lingered for a moment on his side as he passed Qrow in the kitchen that morning. Qrow, hands on the coffee maker, turned his head and let himself linger too, nose pressed into the other man's neck for a moment. It was such a small moment that none of the other Ace Ops having breakfast noticed.

On an impulse, he pulled Clover close by his collar just before the man jumped from their transport on that day's mission and pressed a kiss to his lips. "For good luck," he said with a wink to Clover's rosy face, turning into a crow as he leapt out the other doorway. It was a little more convenient, not bothering to hide that detail anymore.

It felt right. It felt _good_. Qrow wandered for a while after he was finished with his work for the day, wondering if he was on Clover's mind like the man was on his, and ended up back in the Ace Ops' section. Though their rooms all had a shower, their group training room had its own locker rooms, and Qrow headed into the men's side because it was closer than his room. He folded up his clothes, setting his jewelry in a neat pile on top of them, and put them into a bottom shelf in the corner out of habit. He liked going unnoticed.

He walked across the cold tile underfoot and turned in one of the shower stalls. The walls between came up to shoulder-height, probably so anyone inside could see attackers at the door if there happened to be any. The idea of being attacked while he was naked in the shower was fairly ridiculous, but Qrow had been attacked in weirder places than that.

He stood with fairly hot water pouring down on his back and let out a sigh. It eased the tension that had gathered during the day.

It was when he heard the door swing open that he reached for the shampoo and accidentally knocked it off the small shelf it sat on. Swearing under his breath, the words lost in the stream of water, he knelt down and picked it up, vaguely noting the sound of footsteps coming towards him and into the stall next to him. It wasn't that awkward of a thing; he knew the hot water would come on faster near a shower already running.

He raised an eyebrow at the shampoo bottle. _Argan oil and shea butter- guaranteed for soft curls!_ The fuck kind of military base bought this as their standard shampoo?

A sigh emanated from the stall over that he recognized. Smirking, Qrow stood up and leaned on the separation wall. "What's up, lucky charm?"

Clover jumped like he'd stung him with a griffon feather. He'd been standing there with his head back, letting the water run over him, but now he looked like a startled deer just learning how to walk. That wasn't too far off, since the floor was damp. "Qrow!" he exclaimed, mildly chastising, while Qrow laughed at him. "For gods' sake, Qrow, I think you just took a year off my life."

Qrow grinned at him. "You mad at me?"

Clover looked at him for a moment and rolled his eyes. It felt fond. He was leaning against the other wall now, and Qrow's eyes naturally drifted downwards.

_Oh. Yeah._

Licking his lips, he looked back up and smirked again. "I know how I can make it up to you, shamrock," he said, dancing his fingers across his own wall as he sauntered around. Clover raised an eyebrow, then widened his eyes when Qrow entered his stall. He stepped into the man's space, trading breath with him, and pressed his nails into the man's collarbone.

He flicked his eyes up to meet Clover's. He wasn't quite panting yet, but he had started to breathe heavier. His eyes drifted down too.

Catching his chin and jerking it up, Qrow crushed their mouths together, not bothering with being gentle. Clover pushed back against him, hands settling on his hips while Qrow clawed at the muscles in his shoulders, and he swung them to the side until he had Qrow pressed into the wall of the room instead, the water from the shower head raining down on them. It made Qrow's skin feel even hotter than it would have as they ground together, bare erections pressed against each other.

Clover's hand wandered down and found his knee while the man mouthed at his neck. He yanked it up to hook around his own hip, allowing him to get a better angle to grind directly against Qrow's dick. He let his head fall back against the tile and moaned. How long had it been since he'd had sex? Sure, it was mildly-difficult shower sex (which was generally overrated and always more trouble than it was worth) but it made it easier when his partner was strong enough to hold him up.

He reached blindly for the shampoo bottle he knew was sitting around and breathed out shakily when he found it, not bothering to muffle his voice as they moved. The showers weren't enough to completely muffle them anymore, so anyone who came in _now_ was just an idiot.

He reluctantly withdrew his other hand from Clover's body to pour some of the soap into his palm. He reached down and wrapped it around Clover's dick, pumping it up and down a few times and drawing a delicious moan from the other man.

"I'm sure it's sanitary enough, if Atlas is buying it," he rasped, tossing the bottle haphazardly so he could return to running his hands over Clover's upper body. He couldn't resist joking a little even at a time like this. "Just don't slip. Did that once. Got a concussion."

"Somehow I'm not surprised," Clover quipped into his ear. Qrow gave up on words after that, distantly hearing the sound of his own voice panting and groaning as they thrusted against each other under the hot water. There would be marks on both their bodies afterward, worsened by how sensitive it made their skin, but he didn't care.

His mouth happened to be on Clover's neck when he came, and he let out something between a yell and a howl as he bit down. It made Clover's shoulders tense, more than they already were, and practically growl into his shoulder. So he was into biting, _too_. Qrow really had lucked out.

They stood there under the water, letting it wash away their mess as they caught their breath. Clover still had ahold of his knee, but he raised the other hand to brush Qrow's wet bangs back, fingers lingering on the studs in his ear. "Not my ideal location for first-time sex, but considering we had to resort to a closet for a first kiss, I'll take it."

Qrow couldn't help but let out a cackle. He let himself laugh for a minute, but then looked at the man with twinkling eyes, making him raise an eyebrow. Leaning up, Qrow brushed his lips against his ear, taking pleasure in how it made him shiver.

"Come to my room tonight, and it'll be a lot more convenient with a bed."

* * *

Qrow still had to swing by the cafeteria and count heads, make sure all the members of team RWBY, JNR and Oscar were accounted for and weren't off to cause trouble but instead to go sleep, but he forewent dinner and retreated to his room as soon as he was free. It felt strange, almost, to have his feet taking him towards his quarters, and not the Ace Ops. It was where he slept every night, unless he fell asleep on the Ace Ops' couch after a game of cards lasted too long, but it felt like he hardly spent any time there.

He was surprised when there was a knock on his door earlier than he'd been expecting. It wasn't dark out yet, but to be fair, Clover seized him by the collar and dragged him into a kiss before he even had the door fully open, so he was guessing they were both impatient.

"Challenge," Clover said with a grin, releasing him as he shut the door for him. "If I can show you a new side to good luck, you'll answer a question for me."

Qrow raised an eyebrow at the quirky idea. "Sure thing, shamrock. You that confident?"

"You'll see."

Now, Qrow had played a variety of roles in his relationships over the years (though those relationships never lasted long) but he had to admit there was something about Clover (being the muscle packed onto him without being unfavorably bulky, the confidence in his stride, and the ideas bouncing around Qrow's head about whether his Semblance applied to sex or not) that made him want to get absolutely _railed_ right now. And the man was clearly experienced, or just lucky, or probably both, because even while he was just stretching Qrow open with his fingers it made him want to slap a hand over his mouth to get a handle on his ridiculous moaning. Had it just been that long, or did the man have magic hands or something?

Clover, as he carefully slid into him to make sure his moaning didn't take on a note of pain, murmured into his ear. "Tell me if you realize," he whispered, which should have sounded a little ominous but was just a bit amusing, as he took an experimental thrust.

Qrow immediately arched his back and moaned. Clover kicked his hips forward again, and Qrow yelled, grasping at the man's back.

The third time around that Clover nailed his prostate exactly he let out a wheeze. "Fuck," he panted, making Clover pause, and he caught the hint of a cocky grin on the operative's face. " _Every time?_ "

"Every time," Clover told him, the barest hint of a gold glint shimmering between them.

Qrow was not embarrassed to admit he screamed until his throat felt raw, because _fuck_ it had been a long time and now he knew exactly that Clover had every reason to be confident in bed.

* * *

"Do you get cold?"

Qrow let out a yawn. They'd been laying there a while, and he'd actually thought Clover had drifted off, but apparently he hadn't, as he was thoughtfully tracing a nonsensical pattern into the mattress by Qrow's head. The other man was sprawled over him from behind, under Qrow's now ten and counting blankets, which frankly, was getting to be ridiculous. "Huh?"

"You have quite a few blankets," Clover's voice continued, amused. "I'm pretty sure a few supply closets are missing their extras."

Face heating up, Qrow huffed and pressed his face into his pillow. "It gets cold," he muttered.

"I suppose it does." Clover was quiet for a minute, then came to realization. "Crows do migrate when it gets cold, doesn't it?"

Ugh. Him and his bird tendencies again. "Yeah," Qrow admitted, mildly cranky. "I've never spent a winter in Atlas, let alone a whole one."

He could just feel the frown in Clover's tone as the man pressed in closer, breathing onto Qrow's neck. Despite his facade of being annoyed, Qrow pressed back into him, shivering at the warmth. Clover ran hot, like a walking one-man heater.

"You should sleep in my quarters," he murmured into Qrow's neck.

"Is it soundproofed? Because I feel it needs to be soundproofed if I do that."

Clover chuckled. Qrow could feel it in his chest behind him. "Yes. That was actually installed after Elm kept waking up screaming from dreams where she was bashing coconuts, convinced she was losing. Quite the competition, from what we heard."

"I don't think any measly coconuts could beat that woman."

Clover laughed into his neck again. "So that's a yes? On sleeping with me?"

"I just did," Qrow quipped, rolling around. He tangled one of his legs over Clover's, unashamedly moving in close enough their foreheads almost touched. He really did fucking hate the cold. "Also, what was that question you wanted to ask."

Clover blinked, as if he'd completely forgotten about it. It was cute. "Oh, yeah."

He reached down and pulled up Qrow's left hand. He thumbed Qrow's ring finger, eyes looking inquisitive. "I've seen you wear a ring on every finger but this one. I was just curious as to why."

"Ah," Qrow replied, watching Clover's fingers run over his head. "Yeah. That's kind of a silly story."

"We're kind of a silly story."

"Touche. Well, don't laugh, but Summer and I used to be obsessed with finding a four-leaf clover in the forest at Beacon when we were students there. I said it was impossible with my luck, but she kept on wanting to try."

Clover smiled at him. "Did you ever find it?"

Qrow rolled his eyes. "No. She had to settle for a regular old three-leaf one."

"And this ties into your hand how...?"

"...I was convinced of a lot of things back then, lucky charm. Summer always told me I'd find someone who could put up with me. I just didn't believe her." Clover's hand tightened around his, fingers intertwined, and he squeezed back. "I still wore jewelry back then too, so one day she tied a clover around that finger and told me I wasn't allowed to wear anything but a wedding ring there." A chuckle ripped through him at the irony. "She was so convinced I'd up and get married one day like her."

A cheeky grin arose on Clover's face. Qrow opened one eye, having not even realized he'd closed them. "Well? What're you thinking about that now, birdie?"

Qrow let out a laughing huff, averting his eyes. "She was also convinced I'd find my 'four-leaf clover' someday, too. A lucky charm, you might say." Clover's hand released his own and ran up his arm, resting on his face. Qrow looked back at him, looking uncharacteristically soft. "Kind of ironic. But you already know I'm not going anywhere."

Clover's grin got wider. The next thing that came out of his mouth was jarring, to say the least. "This is a convenient segue, and reminds me of something I was thinking of- which is, I think we should get married tomorrow."

All the air rushed out of Qrow's lungs like the time he'd run into one of Beacon's security cameras and Glynda had run to check on him after he'd toppled onto a balcony. He set to coughing, quickly sitting up so he didn't choke, and the other man laughed as he rubbed his bare back.

"Uh, too soon?"

"That seems a little fast," Qrow wheezed, finally catching his breath. He turned to look at him incredulously, and though Clover looked a little sheepish, he still looked like he was serious. "No lead-up, shamrock?"

"Well, I don't mean _literally_ get married," Clover said, then paused and corrected himself. "Well, I do mean legally get married." Qrow raised a confused eyebrow at him. "I mean-" He gestured to articulate their entire situation, encompassing everything around them. "You remember when I brought you to the hospital?"

"Yeah...?"

"Initially, only immediate family members are let in," Clover said, and Qrow vaguely remembered the frown he'd worn when he'd handed him off to a pair of nurses with a gurney. He could relate; he had hated having to wait to be let in when Clover was hospitalized. "And I think you and I both know this is serious."

Qrow swallowed.

"I think we should put it on paper first, to avoid anything like that," Clover said, taking his hand again to ground him. "In case anything happens to either of us. And after all this is over, we can actually... _get_ married. A ceremony, rings, your groom party of four or so overexcited young women-" Qrow snorted, feeling some of the tension ease from his shoulders. "Without any of the stress."

After a long silence, a laugh tumbled out of his mouth. "Sure, shamrock," he chuckled, brushing a hand through his hair. "But only if you agree to mess with your team with me."

"What, about you being a crow? I was already planning on doing that."

* * *

"Qrow," James greeted him, looking as serious as death as he sat at his desk leaning on his folded hands. Qrow sat awkwardly in the cushioned chair across from him, unsure of why he'd been called in and why the chair was put there, hands shoved into his pockets.

"Jimmy."

"So..." The general's eyes drilled into him, like he was about to start an interrogation. Qrow started to wonder if he should actually be worried. "I've been...concerned lately."

_What?_

"The other day, you were acting so strangely, and the Ace Ops informed me you said you had a...run-in? With someone specifically?"

Oh, those little snitches. Of course they'd run to James and told them what he'd said.

"And you do look a bit...ruffled," James said, like he was trying to be polite, eyes lingering on Qrow's forearm. Only a little sliver by his elbow was exposed, with his gloves, and it took Qrow's brain a solid thirteen seconds to catch up to what he was alluding to.

Clover had left a bruise on his arm, fresh from that morning's second round, and it was in the crook of his elbow. What did Jim think, that he'd gotten beaten up or something?

"I understand you're used to being a loner," James went on, looking like he also would rather be shooting himself with his own weapon than having this conversation, "and dealing with everything yourself. But, if someone has bothered you, I want you to know you can bring it to my attention, as such things are unprofessional- and if someone ever got physical with you, that certainly requires my attention-"

A snort escaped him. James paused, and Qrow took it as his cue to completely dissolve into laughter. It was the kind that left his stomach aching, him bent over as tears gathered in his eyes, and the other man watched him warily.

"James," he tried, but he was laughing too hard to speak properly. "James, it's not-" He started laughing again. The General watched him with concern, a furrow in his brow.

" _Clover and I are fucking!_ " he finally wheezed out, banging a fist onto the man's desk. James' head jerked back in surprise. "We're, oh my god, we're, we're fucking, James. I made up that bullshit because your little dream team was badgering me about when Clover started petting me as a bird. Do you get it now?"

For almost a full minute, James just stared at him, then pushed off his desk and leaned back in his chair, laying his flesh hand over his eyes. "Can you do. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The normal way?"

"Apparently not. But you did remind me, I need you to sign some paperwork and marry us."

" _What?_ "

At the man's stunned expression, Qrow started laughing again. "You know me," he said. "I steal shiny things."

"How did you go from- that- to-"

"It's just on paper for now! I promise, we'll invite you to the wedding after all this chaos is over and it'll be a great hoo-haa."

James stared at him. He almost looked like he was growing greyer by the second. "Very well," he sighed, then pulled something up on his computer. "I can't say I wasn't expecting it, with the way you two act. I'll need to set you up a bank account, then. Or would you just like to be added to Clover's?"

Qrow quirked an eyebrow at him. "What?"

James looked at him, slowly, and Qrow could have sworn there was an evil glint in his eye. "An account, Qrow," he said, like he was in middle school. "For your benefits."

"...my benefits?"

"Yes. Your military spouse benefits."

Qrow stared at him in horror. "Military spouse?"

"I expect a paper invitation," James said as he marked something off on his screen and then gave him a bland smile. "Best of luck to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also the shenanigans coming i think deserve a part 3 so this story is probably moving to a part 3 in the series lmao


	12. continuation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> completely forgot to post on here that part 3 was up! my apologies~ if you're like me you may not notice even when they're in the same series lol. here's chapter 1 of part 3, which has more overarching plot but is still fair game centric

Clover, in his own opinion, was minding his own business when his teammates descended upon him, in much the same fashion one might descend upon a criminal they didn't want getting away, sitting in the mostly-empty mess hall and sipping at a mug of coffee while he read a newspaper on his Scroll. There were more and more concerning things happening in Mantle lately, and it had been on all their minds. Apparently all of that news, however, took second importance to whatever Harriet, Elm, Marrow and Vine had to say, as Harriet swiped his Scroll straight out of his hands as she zipped by and sat down, looking grim.

"Good morning to you all as well," Clover noted dryly as they sat down around him. Vine sat down as prim as ever with steepled hands, Marrow was clearly trying to contain his own excitement as his tail practically vibrated, and Elm looked oddly serious.

"This is important," Harriet told him, waving him off. "This. Is an intervention."

His eyebrow shot up.

"We can't take it anymore," Elm took over, sounding so serious he may have laughed if he knew what this was about. "Captain, I know you like flirting, but this has gotta stop."

"This being...?"

"Your relationship with Huntsman Branwen," Vine continued, despite the hundred times Clover had told him he could just say Qrow, "we're concerned about your relationship with him."

Clover's brow furrowed. "Why would you be _concerned_?" he asked, befuddled.

"We're not concerned about _you_ ," Harriet corrected wryly. "We're concerned about _our_ sanity if you two don't stop dancing around each other and fuck already."

Clover opened his mouth, about to tell her (in more polite terms) they'd done precisely that three times already, but he was interrupted before he could.

" _Seriously_ ," Marrow exclaimed, slapping his palms to the table top. "It's getting ridiculous! You two are always either eye-fucking or making dumb puns at each other!"

"Well, nothing wrong with a little bit of levity to lighten the mood-"

"Except it's nonstop levity that makes everyone around you want to ram their head into a wall," Harriet growled, eyes sparking. "So I'm telling you this, man to man-" She wasn't a man, but all right. "-Just. _Tell him._ And _fuck_. Already."

She pronounced each word slowly, emphasizing them with a slap of her fist to an open palm, glaring at him like he'd insulted her mother and spat on her dog.

She glanced at the other Ace Ops and nodded. They nodded back. Like a herd of sheep, they got up and left him sitting there alone again, and she tossed his Scroll back into his hands while she walked away.

Clover stared after his colleagues. There went the most elite team in Atlas, he thought, totally convinced he needed nudging into confessing to his own husband. Could irony get any worse?

* * *

"So, Uncle Qrow," Ruby sing-songed as she sat on the sofa in their common room, swinging her legs back and forth. "Guess what I want more than anything in the world!"

"World peace?" Qrow guessed as he repeatedly smashed a button on the controller in his hands, sending Yang's character off-screen. She let out a yell of frustration.

"Another uncle!" Ruby beamed at him, making him choke on his own spit and start coughing. She patted his back without much concern.

Shaking himself, Qrow looked up to glower at her and scowled. "Excuse me?"

"We can all _see_ you have the hots for Captain Clover," Yang said, sounding smug. "You guys are always flirting."

"And acting like you want to go do gross couple things!"

Weiss snorted from where she'd appeared to sit on the back of the couch. "And clearly you've got his attention as well."

 _Oh my god,_ Qrow thought, wondering if this conversation was going to traumatize him, as he put his head into his hands. "Girls, I really don't-"

"Look, Uncle Qrow," Ruby told him, in an incredibly patronizing sympathetic tone that was going to make him bang his head into the wall, as she patted his shoulder. "We know you have self-esteem problems-"

"What?"

"And you haven't kept a long relationship for like ten years, maybe more, probably more, maybe even never-"

" _Excuse me?_ "

"But you _are_ worthy of love! You've gotta go tell him how you feel!"

"Yeah!" Yang pumped her fist into the air, looking over at Blake with a blinding smile. "You told me to confess to Blake, and I did, and it worked! So you should do the same!"

The girl sitting opposite her just sat there and let out a small smile, a book in her hands.

"Guys," Qrow rasped, scrubbing his face. "I really appreciate the sentiment, but I don't need-"

"Don't worry, Uncle Qrow," Yang bulldozed cheerfully. "We're gonna help you!"

"I don't need-"

"We'll do everything we can!"

"You don't understand-"

"And to start off, I told Clover you wanted to meet him at the rose garden, so you should probably leave right about now!"

"You what?" Qrow asked, wrinkling his nose, but Yang was already yanking him off the couch and shoving him towards the door. Then it was slammed in his face, and he was left standing there in the empty hallway with his niece's words reverberating through his head, and since they obviously weren't letting him back in and had probably told Clover something stupid, he let out a sigh and started walking towards his favorite garden to frequent. What a fucking day.

* * *

Clover was sitting under an apple tree, on the bench Qrow himself liked to sit at, absentmindedly reading something on his Scroll. Qrow liked this garden because all the bushes inside were rose bushes. The gardeners had cultivated a variety of colors, and he liked to sit in the apple tree's branches, staring at them for what felt like hours on end. Clover looked relaxed, and Qrow couldn't help but smile when he saw him, despite his previous frustration.

"Hey, pretty boy," he called, strolling over with his thumbs hooked into his pockets. Clover glanced up and smiled at him, turning off his Scroll in favor of conversation. "So, what wheel of fortune do I need to play to guess what my nieces told you?"

"They said something about you having something important to tell me," Clover replied, sounding amused. He lifted an arm as Qrow sat down, then wrapped it around him and set it on the bench beside his hip. "I wonder what it could be?"

Qrow snorted. "Let's just say they didn't get the memo when it comes to us apparently needing help flirting with each other."

Clover chuckled. "Guess who gave me a talk earlier?"

"Was Harriet orchestrating it?"

"You guessed it in one. Vine and Elm saw me in here earlier, but when I mentioned I was coming to talk to you they left like a couple of bats out of hell."

Qrow raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Ironic they all couldn't avoid us like this three days ago."

Clover's smile grew into a grin. "What, you didn't like making out in a closet?" he teased, turning and leaning closer to him. "Like most do in their Academy days?"

Qrow let out a snort. "Bad shower sex also belongs in your Academy days. S'it count as fast forwarding or going backwards if we did both?"

"Oh, you think it was _bad_? Well, Qrow, I _can_ try again."

"Think you can do better, hotshot?"

"Most definitely. I've been told I have great luck in bed."

Qrow gave into the grin trying to take over his face. Flicking the other man's forehead, he got up and broke off their teasing. "It'll have to be later. James wants me to scout out a possible dust mine a few miles out from the city limits. As a bird," he said when Clover raised an eyebrow, wondering why he was being sent alone.

"All right. Just be careful, don't be shy to pull off a tactical retreat."

"That's what you Atlas elites call it," Qrow replied, sticking out his tongue as he backed away. "I call it running to save your ass."

Clover grinned, nearly laughing as Qrow left through the garden door and started down the hall. Supposing he had time to get in some training, and would probably be able to find one of his colleagues to do it with, he got up and left the room at a leisurely pace, unprepared for finding two of them right around the corner, hunched over like they'd been spying on him through the glass.

"Clover," Harriet groaned through a growl, looking like she wanted to strangle him. "That was a perfect chance!"

"Wasted," Elm moaned. "So wasted. It was romantic and everything!"

Clover resisted the urge to slap his own forehead. Instead, he forced his voice to take on a chipper note. "Good, you two are free! Time for some calisthenics."

"Clover!"

* * *

The location he'd been sent out to wasn't much of anything. There had probably been a fair-sized mine there at some point, but it was almost completely caved in, nothing more than a hole in the ground now filled with rocks and snow. He wandered around for a while, looking for possible entry points or weak spots, but the area was pretty solid; starting a dig without knowing anything was even down there for sure was a waste of time.

Still, he got to take a flight and stretch out his wings. The wind was still bitingly cold, which made him wish there was some way to wear a sweater as a bird, but he enjoyed soaring in the empty skies without a care in the world. Up there, where the air was fresh and clean of any fumes and all there was to focus on was the wind rustling past his feathers, he didn't have to think about the embargo or Mantle or Salem or any of the dangers to them all right now.

Sometimes, it was just nice to have a break.

He closed his eyes for a moment. Gliding along, just like that, it was almost like getting a massage-

_SMACK!_

_FUCK,_ Qrow yelled to himself, which just came out as an indignant, pained squawk from his beak. He tore his eyes open and caught a brief glance of one of those damned security drones, beeping yellow, which meant it was malfunctioning or something- he didn't really know, he just knew they brought them in to fix when they did that- before realizing he was free falling. He had transformed back into a human being out of reflex, having learned to do it when anything attacked him as a crow so he could fight back.

He flailed in the air for a moment and grasped for Harbinger to stop his fall. There was a blinding pain right behind his eyes, which always happened when he ran into something while he was flying, and it would be dumb to try and shift back now, because he'd be more stunned as a crow.

" _Landing strategy_ " was the first thing taught to young Huntsman, but it was a bit harder when his head was still ringing with pain and disorientation. He managed to wrangle Harbinger's shotgun out and blasted straight down, trying to re-orient himself when the shot broke some of his momentum. He slung his scythe out and shot again, managing to get himself into a roll like he'd taught Ruby to do.

If he just hadn't run into the damned drone, landing would've been easy, but considering he was still figuring out if what he thought was up and down was actually up and down by the time he hit the ground, he came down a lot harder than he would have liked. There was snow below that broke his fall, and he skidded, stopping in the cold with a groan, the sky above suddenly quite blinding.

At least he wasn't falling anymore. That hadn't been fun.

It was mind-numbingly cold, and Harbinger felt much too heavy to lift in his hand, so he closed his eyes just for a minute.

It was just a minute, but darkness still rushed in on him.


End file.
